Second Best
by Lucinda
Summary: Willow discovers something seriously wrong with the relationship between herself and her lover Spike. WS, BS
1. Second Best

Second Best  
  
Author: Lucinda  
pairing: Willow/Spike - QPC #1, also contains B/S  
rating: PG 13-pg 16, angst, heartache  
the QPC site:   
Disclaimer: I do not own anyone from the show Buffy the Vampire Slayer.  
Distribution: any lists that I send this to, WLS, QPC, Bite Me, Cat - anyone else please ask  
QPC Theme for February (from 16th to 28th): Heartache, cheating, breaking up, make-up PWP, divorce.  
note: set in AU season 6. Willow and Tara never got back together after Glory, and instead Willow hooked up with Spike. Tara left Sunnydale. Willow resurrected Buffy.  
  
  
  
Willow sighed, feeling just a bit uneasy. She had the oddest feeling that there was something wrong, and the feeling had been there for a while now. She'd checked with Giles, and there weren't any ominous prophecies or expected arrivals of any particularly nasty demons.  
  
If only Spike were here, he could make everything feel better. He'd been with her through everything last year with Glory, and somehow, after Tara had gone away, he'd slipped into her heart, becoming important to her, becoming her lover, her everything. He'd been the only reason she'd been able to keep functioning after Buffy had died, and he'd been the one to ask if there had been any way to bring her back. He'd helped her prepare her ritual, and had been there when they'd brought Buffy back, helping make sure nothing interfered.  
  
But Spike had been used to patrolling by then, and hadn't wanted to give it up entirely. It was his outlet for his frustration, for his need for violence. She'd been trying to work out a way to remove the chip, and had found a spell that would allow her to teleport small objects. Unfortunately, her control with that spell was still rather bad, so she hadn't mentioned it, hadn't been willing to risk hurting him in her efforts.  
  
He seemed to be taking more risks on his patrols lately though. He'd been coming home to her with bruises and cuts, his clothing torn and dirty. He was also seeming a bit unspecific about where they'd come from, dismissing them as just a side effect of the violence. He also seemed a bit more irritable lately, as if there was something preying on his mind, troubling him. He was restless in his sleep, and more fidgety in his waking hours.  
  
Her uneasy feeling grew, until it was like something was twisting her stomach into sour knots and her nerves had become taut wires. She had to find out what was wrong... had to find some way to put an end to this feeling of dread.  
  
If the something was dangerous, maybe she should have someone a bit more physically powerful with her. Someone like Spike, or maybe Buffy. Having decided on a course of action, Willow stood up, puling on a jacket, sliding a stake into one pocket, and left the apartment. Spike should be on patrol through the cemeteries tonight, looking for the stupid vampires and for the pack of ghouls that Giles suspected of being in the area.   
  
Her search for one of them had brought her to one of the more secluded cemeteries, and her feeling of something wrong had only grown. It was as if the very air whispered to her, notrightnotrightnotright... She thought that maybe she could see how Drusilla had gone mad, why she thought the stars spoke to her.   
  
There was a noise, something like a groan, from over that way. Willow felt two conflicting urges - one to run away, and the other to discover what was there. It had sounded almost like something in pain... She moved towards the noise, her feet barely making the faint shushing noise through the grass. She stepped past a scrap of dark fabric, and her uneasy feeling intensified, like tiny prickles all over her skin, under her scalp.  
  
When she stepped around so that she could see the source of the sound, she immediately regretted it. Spike and Buffy... against the wall of the mausoleum. Their clothing had been almost torn from their bodies, and they... They were making... having... they were screwing each other's brains out.  
  
She felt something inside of her shatter and fall into razor edged frozen slivers, slashing her insides into bloody raw pain. She couldn't move, couldn't breath as she stared in horror at the man who claimed to love her and the person who claimed to be her best friend.  
  
There was no tenderness in their movements, just force and power and raw need. They were like animals, clawing and grabbing, blinded by their lust and passion. Spike and Buffy. Spike and Buffy. Moaning, gasping, making the raw noises of lust...  
  
She really didn't know how she'd ended up back at her apartment, the one she shared with Spike. The one where he'd been lying to her. She could see it now, those bruises and cuts that he'd been so vague about hadn't been from fighting on patrol, they were from Buffy. From their... whatever that they were doing. The nasty, Xander would call it. The name was oddly fitting.  
  
She couldn't stay here, not in the place where she'd tried to build a future. Not in this place where she'd believed that he could love her, could make her happy. There was no future here. Nothing but the shattered dreams of happily after and memories of deceitful joy.  
  
Her vision was blurred by tears as she packed her things, making ruthless use of magic to force everything into her single suitcase. She didn't touch any of his clothing, didn't take a single item of the furniture that they'd picked out together. She was leaving it all behind.  
  
She just left one little message for him - a single word written in three inch letters of dark bronze lipstick, and a spell on the mirror, causing it to replay That Scene. If he wanted to know why she'd left, all he had to do was look in the mirror.  
  
Willow wouldn't accept being his consolation prize, the woman he came home to because the one he wanted wouldn't claim him. She would just take him in the cemetery. And Buffy had known that Willow and Spike were involved... everyone had known.  
  
Had he always wanted Buffy? Had that been why he'd helped bring her back? Not for the comfort and safety of her and her friends, but so he could have another chance to get her into bed with him?  
  
Not that they'd been in a bed...  
  
Willow left the apartment, allowing the door to swing shut with a final click. She would not be back to that place. She would not go back to Spike. She'd offered him everything that she was, and it hadn't been enough, hadn't been what he'd wanted. She wouldn't be second place, wouldn't allow him to go from her arms to Buffy's. If he wanted Buffy, let her have him.  
  
All she had to figure out now was how to remove him from the shattered remnants of her heart. Could she pick him out from between the jagged edges? Let him pour out like water, like dark red blood? Could she blow away the bits of emotion like dust?  
  
She would find a way, somehow. After all, she was the smart one, the research girl and witch. If there was a way, she would find it. Because she definitely wouldn't be content to have whatever scraps of time he could spare from Buffy.  
  
end Second Best. 


	2. Looses All

Looses All  
  
Author: Lucinda  
pairing: Willow/Spike also contains Buffy/Spike  
sequel to Second Best  
rating: PG 16-R, angst, heartache, violence   
the QPC site:   
Disclaimer: I do not own anyone from the show Buffy the Vampire Slayer.  
Distribution: any lists that I send this to, WLS, QPC, Bite Me, Cat - anyone else please ask  
QPC Theme for February (from 16th to 28th): Heartache, cheating, breaking up, make-up PWP, divorce.  
note: set in AU season 6. Willow and Tara never got back together after Glory, and instead Willow hooked up with Spike. Tara left Sunnydale. Willow resurrected Buffy.  
  
  
  
Spike had gone on patrol, his emotions a tangled mess. He knew that things were going wrong, that he'd done wrong by Willow. That he was probably going to continue to do wrong by her, like he had from the beginning. He'd still been longing for Buffy when he'd gotten involved with Willow.  
  
He hadn't been quite certain how it had happened. Willow had been his friend, one of the few that he'd ever had. He'd been there for her when she'd lost Tara to the madness from Glory, when Tara had decided that Sunnydale was to dangerous and gone away, had left Willow. Somehow, he'd ended up sleeping with Willow. They'd become lovers, and eventually moved in together.  
  
But he'd still had those feelings for Buffy. Not that he'd spoken of them, and a part of him knew that Willow probably thought they'd faded. He cared for Willow, and wasn't certain how he'd manage without her there, smoothing tensions, listening to him talk about anything. She accepted him, man and vampire, the dark and the light. Even if she didn't like some of the darker, more violent things he'd done, she accepted that they were a part of his past, a part of him.  
  
He'd stood by her when Buffy had died, and watched with awe and a bit of fear when she found a spell to resurrect her friend, and actually made it work. And then he'd realized that Buffy was back, was really there again, and he still wanted her.  
  
He'd never thought anything would come of it, after all, Buffy'd made it abundantly clear that she didn't care for him, didn't believe that he could love before she'd died. She looked at him and only saw a monster, never the man. But then he'd accidentally bumped into her about two weeks after her return... she'd been fighting a group of three minions, with an almost brutal style that had stunned him. This wasn't the same fighting style that she'd used before.  
  
She'd followed that by grabbing him into a brutal kiss, assaulting his lips with her own. The next thing he'd known, he'd been on his back with a half naked slayer grinding down on him, her hands leaving purpling bruises on his ribcage. They hadn't made love, or even just had sex. There had been just... well, the simple fact was that she'd used him.  
  
And he'd let her do it. And again a few days after that. A part of him was appalled that he was doing this, allowing himself to be the Slayer's sex toy, that he could betray Willow like that. So the next time, he'd tried to lash out, to push the slayer away.  
  
That had resulted in a huge fight that had almost brought down the warehouse and raw shagging against the wall. He'd found himself believing that she finally felt something for him, finally was willing to...  
  
And there was still the matter of Willow. Willow, the sweetest, most compassionate person he'd ever met, Willow that he lived with, that he went home to. Her lips that caressed him, that kissed him tenderly. Willow who would snuggle up to him in her sleep, sighing his name as if it was the most wonderful sound. Willow who'd offered him her heart.  
  
Buffy knew that he and Willow were together, lived together, slept together, that Willow loved him. That he had his own feelings for Willow. But she didn't care about that. She would find him in the darkness, during a patrol, and there would often be violence, hitting, punching, kicking... followed by couplings that were almost as violent as the fighting.  
  
He knew it was wrong, knew that he shouldn't give into the Slayer, to his own lusts for her. But she was his obsession, and she'd become his guilty addiction. A part of him was wondering how long this would continue, how long he would let himself be used... So he vowed to talk to her after the next time. It wasn't as if he'd have any other chance.   
  
She found him in a cemetery that he knew she hadn't been supposed to patrol that night. She had to have deliberately sought him out, deliberately looked for him.  
  
"Slayer. Fancy meeting you out here... weren't you supposed to be over on the east side?"   
  
One fist moved with blurring speed, connecting with his jaw. "I didn't come here to be all polite. I need... things aren't right anymore. You make me feel..."  
  
"Is it because I care..." His words were interrupted by another blow, this one forcing the air out of his body before he could finish the sentence.  
  
Her eyes were dead, dull, emotionless orbs set in a face that showed nothing. "You don't care. You can't, you're just a demon. But you make me feel alive again."  
  
Then she grabbed him, her fingers pulling at his hair as she pulled him to her, lips on him, nipping, biting, crushing him to her. Her other hand ripped his shirt off of him, throwing it to the ground. There was no tenderness, only raw coupling, the frantic clutching and clawing, leaving bruises and welts over their bodies, almost animal like groans and gasps. There against the mausoleum...   
  
When she was done with him, she pushed him away, turning to leave. Something screamed inside of him, a frantic howl of protest, but he couldn't tell if it was because his addiction was leaving, or a protest to the whole encounter. "Buffy... I do..."  
  
She turned, her eyes cold now, not quite as lifeless. "No you don't. You aren't capable of love."  
  
He stood up, freshly bruised muscles screaming their objections. "Hey! I have feelings! And you must have something for me, or else you wouldn't keep coming back!"  
  
Sneering at him, she laughed. "Feelings? For you? Don't be ridiculous. You mean nothing to me. This? It isn't about you, it's about me."  
  
He reeled back, her words burning him like acid, like holy water over wounds. Such cruelty... "If it's not about me, why then? Why pick the person involved with Red?"  
  
"Because I knew you'd come. I knew I could have you, that you could take it all." With a dismissive little wave, she left, clearly no longer concerned with him.  
  
Bloody hell... she'd used him, and all because she knew he cared. Buffy didn't care if it would hurt Willow, didn't even seem to think it mattered. Willow... something twisted inside of him, a sickening dropping sensation. He'd betrayed Willow to... to be the Slayer's punching bag and whore. He wasn't real to her, was nothing to her.  
  
But he was everything to Willow.  
  
He felt as if something cold and heavy had made it's way into his veins. Something thick and heavy, slowing him, making him clumsy as he staggered and stumbled his way back to the apartment. He had a passionate woman who thought he was wonderful waiting to welcome him with open arms, and he had been shagging the slayer. He felt dirty, contaminated, and he realized that he stank of the Slayer and sex.   
  
He got there, and the door was locked. Something wasn't right, she didn't lock him out when he patrolled. His fingers shook as he found his keys, searched for the right one, and managed to unlock the door. Inside, the living room was orderly, the pillows thrown into the chair. But it was silent.  
  
He couldn't hear Willow's heartbeat. Dread seeped into his body, chilling his feet and rising, clenching at his chest with cold, sharp claws. He opened the door the the bedroom, and reeled as if struck. The closet was opened, and almost empty. Her dresser's drawers were slightly open, and he had the feeling that they were empty as well.  
  
What had happened? Where was Willow, why had she left him? He moved closer, hoping to find something, a note, a letter, some sort of explanation, or sign that she was coming back, that there was just some emergency that had arisen.  
  
She just left one little message for him - a single word written in three inch letters of dark bronze lipstick, WHY? A spell had been placed on the mirror, causing it to replay That Scene. Himself in the cemetery, with Buffy... half naked and rutting like beasts.  
  
He felt like he'd just been gutted and left to bleed. Willow had seen him... had seen them. He could only imagine how betrayed she must have felt, how devastated. He couldn't even blame her for it, all she'd asked of him was honesty, to be truthful, and to tell her if she wasn't enough to make him happy.  
  
She'd seen him and Buffy. He sank to the floor, vision blurring with streaks of crimson as the bloody tears fell down his cheeks, dripped onto his chest unheeded. It wouldn't have hurt her as badly if he'd left the mangled bodies of all her friends on her doorstep.  
  
He'd lost everything. The feeble hope that there could have been something with Buffy, and the relationship he'd had with Willow. The reality of her departure was seeping in, like the gradual lightening of the horizon in the morning, and the more he understood what he had done to her, the worse he felt.  
  
Fate or God or whatever had given him a second chance, an opportunity to be happy, to be loved and cherished, and he'd thrown it away. Thrown away Willow's trust and love. He felt sick inside, as if he was going to throw up, something that he hadn't done in well over a century. He'd screwed this up royally.  
  
He'd lost everything that mattered, and it was his own fault.  
  
end Looses All. 


	3. Everybody Loses

Author: Lucinda  
  
pairing: mention of Willow/Spike and Buffy/Spike  
  
sequel to Looses All, third in Second Best story-line.  
  
rating: PG 16-R, angst, heartache, violence  
  
the QPC site: http://quickie.moonlightpaths.com  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own anyone from the show Buffy the Vampire Slayer.  
  
Distribution: any lists that I send this to, WLS, QPC, Bite Me, Cat, Feen, Soulmates, WWW - anyone else please ask  
  
note: set in AU season 6. Willow and Tara never got back together after Glory, and instead Willow hooked up with Spike. Tara left Sunnydale. Willow resurrected Buffy. Buffy then proceeded to use Spike while he was dating Willow, without Willow's knowledge.  
  
  
  
  
  
It had hurt too badly to go anywhere that she would see people. To be near anyone that knew about the relationship between herself and Spike, or at least, the relationship that she thought they'd had. So, she'd gone to the Rosenberg house, the place her parents owned and occasionally visited. A place that held no memories of Spike, no memories of their time together, a place that nobody would ever think to look for her.  
  
She'd barely made it inside the doors, collapsing into painful sobs against the couch, sliding to the floor, vision faded into blurs of color, streaks of pale light falling through the gaps in the curtains. She'd wept, everything hurting from the betrayal of it all. Eventually, she'd staggered to the room that she'd spent her childhood in, the room where she'd once believed that everything would be alright, that she could be safe. When she'd once believed in love conquering all and happily after.  
  
Morning did not bring peace, but it had brought a sort of calm, a numb, emptiness that allowed her to consider the future without tears, although her eyes still burned. She couldn't stay in Sunnydale, not after what she'd seen. But where to go?  
  
Oddly enough, it was the sight of her college books that gave her the idea. She'd been accepted into other universities, places far from Sunnydale that had wanted her to attend, even offering scholarships. She could transfer there, move away, out of the state.  
  
That would be running away. She knew that, accepted that. But what did she have left to stay for? Xander and Anya kept talking about moving, her own family had no call on her, barely remembered that she existed. That only left... Spike and Buffy. Considering what she'd seen, she doubted that they'd miss her very much. Running away was looking very good right about now.  
  
A shower and a change of clothing made her feel... well, if not human then at least capable of passing for one. She was surprised that it didn't show in her face, she just looked a bit pale, her eyes gone dark, as if she'd channeled too much magic, and a bit sunken. She would go to a travel agency and arrange to leave Sunnydale, to go to one of the other colleges. Whichever she could arrange for the easiest - it didn't make that much of a difference.  
  
Unfortunately, when she got to the Travel Agency, the person that she needed to talk to wasn't in yet, and wouldn't be for another hour. She decided to wait over at the Espresso Pump, in the feeble hope that a bit of coffee might help her feel a bit better. She had no idea how much worse her day would get as a result of that single decision.  
  
She was halfway through her mug of coffee when Buffy walked in. Just... sauntering along as if everything was perfectly fine, as if she hadn't been screwing someone else's boyfriend last night. Her 'best friend's boyfriend.  
  
Then Buffy's gall increased, as she plopped herself down at the table with Willow, her lips stretched wide in what was supposed to be a cheerful grin. "Hey Wills, what's up? I didn't see you at the shop this morning."  
  
How could she act as if nothing was wrong? As if everything was normal, that they were just a pair of friends? How could she act as if she wasn't... Something inside Willow cracked, and she knew that Buffy would never have told her, didn't care enough to tell her.  
  
"Because I didn't want to see you." Willow was almost surprised at the chill and venom in her voice. "Not after seeing you last night."  
  
Buffy's forehead crinkled a bit as she considered that. "I didn't see you last night, Willow."  
  
"No, you didn't see me. You were too busy fucking my boyfriend."  
  
Buffy blinked, her smile falling away, leaving a blank, almost dead expression. "What... oh. You saw... He doesn't mean anything to me, Willow. It's not like he counts."  
  
Willow had thought that the situation couldn't get worse than her 'best friend' sleeping with her boyfriend. She'd been wrong. If Spike meant nothing to Buffy, then apparently Willow's relationship, her happiness didn't mean anything to Buffy either. "Why, Buffy? Why my boyfriend?"  
  
"Because I knew he would do it. He wanted me, he always did. I knew if I gave him the slightest encouragement, I could have him. Because I knew he could take it all, all the need, all the violence, everything. Because it makes me feel alive again after you ripped me out of heaven." Buffy's voice was cold, her eyes accusing. As if to say that it was all Willow's fault.  
  
"Out of heaven?" The phrase was a stunned whisper, and for a moment, Willow felt almost drowning in guilt for doing that to her friend. But... "That doesn't give you the right to take my lover. That doesn't give you any rights to him at all. Cherish those memories Buffy. Behaving like a slut doesn't get you back to heaven when you die."  
  
Willow almost didn't see Buffy move, but suddenly, she was on the floor, her eyes full of sparks, her head feeling as if it was spinning and her jaw hurting. Her side hurt from hitting the floor as well. Carefully, her whole body protesting, Willow picked herself up, looking at Buffy.  
  
"What are you going to do about it, Willow? You can't make him stop, he keeps coming back to ME." Buffy's voice was harsh, as if calculated to hurt.  
  
For a moment, Willow wanted to undo her spell, to send Buffy flailing back to the afterlife, to use her power to rend the Slayer limb from limb. Dark energy surged, filling her, humming inside, the pain in her muscles fading away in the coolness of the power. "You are nothing, Buffy Summers. You have become a mere shell of a human being, and eventually, that shell will collapse."  
  
She walked out, turning her back on the person that she'd imagined her friend. Turning her back on Sunnydale. The temptation to unleash her powers, to burn Buffy to the nothing that she'd accused her of being was so strong, so thick that she could taste it. But that wouldn't erase what had happened, wouldn't erase the memories of seeing them together, wouldn't get rid of the betrayal. And if she started to destroy, would she care enough to stop? She didn't know.  
  
But there was nothing to stay in Sunnydale for. Especially since she knew that Buffy had been right about some of it. Spike HAD wanted the Slayer before. Just because she'd assumed that he didn't... had she just been a substitute all along? Spike had gone to Buffy, had apparently kept going to Buffy, and he hadn't told her, hadn't been able to give the single thing that she'd asked of him - honesty.  
  
"Goodbye Sunnydale. It's been real." She didn't think that she would ever come back to this place again. At this moment, she couldn't imagine anything that would be reason enough to return.  
  
It was only a few minutes and she'd arranged to go to New Haven Conneticut, to try to transfer to Yale. To build a new life away from Sunnydale, away from the images of the two people that she'd thought had cared. Away from the broken shards of her heart.  
  
Away from a Slayer that Willow had accidentally pulled from heaven. Away from a vampire that had finally gotten his obsessive desire. Away from the Hellmouth. Just... away.  
  
end Everybody Looses. 


	4. Broken Pedestal

Broken Pedestal  
  
Author: Lucinda  
pairing: mention of Willow/Spike and Buffy/Spike  
fourth in Second Best story-line.  
rating: PG 16-R, angst, heartache, violence   
the QPC site:   
Disclaimer: I do not own anyone from the show Buffy the Vampire Slayer.  
Distribution: any lists that I send this to, WLS, QPC, Bite Me, Cat, Feen, Soulmates, WWW - anyone else please ask  
note: set in AU season 6. Willow and Tara never got back together after Glory, and instead Willow hooked up with Spike. Tara left Sunnydale. Willow resurrected Buffy. Buffy then proceeded to use Spike while he was dating Willow, without Willow's knowledge.  
for Fayth, who asked so nicely. Also for Jenni & Janet.   
  
  
Xander didn't want to believe the rumor when he heard it. He wanted the pair of young women behind him to be talking about some soap opera, or trashy romance. But he couldn't stop himself from listening as they talked.  
  
"That girl who was in your class, Buffy, wasn't it? The class Protector chick? She had this big fight with a redhead earlier." The blond talking had long curls, reminding him of Harmony.  
  
"What sort of fight? What was it about?" Her friend had short dark hair and a tattoo of something green peeking up from under her shirt. Some sort of scaled foot with claws...  
  
There was a shrug. "Sounded like Buffy was screwing Red's boyfriend. And she was so harsh about it too. Didn't even try to excuse it. She was all 'I knew he'd come' and 'he wanted me, you know he did.' It was just... harsh."  
  
"Oh my God... that is so harsh. Just... he's cute, I want to have him? That is so wrong." Dark hair sounded sort of shocked in the tone that said she was hoping for all the sordid details.  
  
Xander hadn't been able to listen to any more. Even if it wasn't true, couldn't be true. Buffy wouldn't do that to Willow. Because Buffy only had one red head that she knew. Willow, who was happily dating... living with Spike. While Xander was pretty sure that Willow could do better than some vampire, it wasn't his choice - it was hers. And she'd said that she loved Spike.  
  
But if the redhead was Willow... No, Spike and Buffy? That was just... wrong on so many levels. It couldn't have been Buffy and Willow... There must be some other blond that looked like Buffy that had a red headed friend.  
  
He was still trying to convince himself that it was impossible when he got to the Magic Box. He'd promised Anya a night out, dinner at this new restaurant that she wanted to try. Buffy was there, training in the back. He could hear the noises of her punching the equipment, feet shuffling on the floor.  
  
"Xander? What's wrong?" Anya's worried voice pulled him back to the present.  
  
He shook his head, trying to push away his doubts. "Just... I heard a rumor today. It's sticking in my head. Honey, you've been around a while, seen lots of relationships. How solid do you think Willow and Spike are?"  
  
Anya's eyes lit up. "A rumor? What sort of rumor? Share!"  
  
Xander sighed. "It's just... Apparently somebody that might or might not be Buffy had a fight with a redhead in the Espresso pump today. It seems that the blonde in question is sleeping with the redhead's boyfriend. From the sounds of it, she wasn't even pretending to be sorry."  
  
"ohhhh." Anya almost seemed to deflate. "That's... despicable. Maybe someone that I know owes me a favor... I would say that Willow and Spike are pretty strong, but... He's still got something for Dru which could cause problems, and he was so obsessed over Buffy last year. I would hope... If she did that to Willow, I'll curse her with boils. Puss filled purple boils."  
  
Xander sighed weakly. He knew all about having a 'thing' for Buffy, he'd had one of those himself. It's death had been slow and painful. "We can go ask her if she's seen Willow. That should clear it up, because... Buffy wouldn't... she wouldn't do that to Wills." He wondered if it was as obvious to Anya as it was to himself that he wasn't quite certain of that at all.  
  
They slipped towards the back, looking on as Buffy moved through her pattern, kicks and punches connecting with the dummy. She was wearing close fitting leggings, and this little tank top that rode up a bit... Yeah, it was easy to see why someone might get a thing for Buffy.  
  
Xander smiled, waving at Buffy. "Hey Buff. Have you seen Willow today?"  
  
"Briefly. She was at the coffee shop, being all sad and poor-me." Buffy sounded... curiously unconcerned.   
  
Xander frowned, wondering What was wrong with Buffy? She'd seemed a bit off since Willow had brought her back, but... she sounded so cold. He had a bad feeling, like his stomach was trying to creep away. "What was Wills upset about?"  
  
"Nothing important. Not really. She just made a mistake in judgment." Buffy still punched the dummy, her expression one of emotionless concentration.  
  
That bad feeling was getting bigger, and there was something else, like something very solid, something that should have been indestructible was cracking. He asked the question, knowing even as the words came out that he would hate the answer. "What bad judgment was that?"  
  
"She thought Spike was a person. He's not a person, just a thing. Just a nothing." Her voice held a bit of an edge, like half strangled anger.  
  
And with a horrible sinking feeling, Xander knew that it was all true. It had been Buffy, she had been... with Spike. She had betrayed Willow. He almost didn't recognize his own voice as the words pulled themselves free. "My God... You really are fucking him. How could you do that to her?"  
  
Buffy turned to look at him, her eyes dark pits of almost inhuman anger. "How could I do this to Willow? Why not? Do you know what she did? I was happy! I was in heaven, and now I'm here! And she had the nerve to insult me, to tell me that I would never go back. I'm the Slayer, Heaven is my reward for this life."  
  
Xander felt as if his outside was numb, wrapped around a seething core of nearly frozen nausuea. "You... can't even see how that was wrong. And here I thought you were a hero."  
  
He bolted from the back room, hoping that he could make it to the bathroom before he vomited up all of this pain, the sense of betrayal and shame. To think that he'd looked up to Buffy... counted her as a hero. He'd put her on a pedestal, and now that pedestal was shattered.  
  
Dimly, he could hear Anya screaming at the Slayer, calling her names in dozens of languages. Talking about the horrible vengeances that she'd wrecked on other people for actions almost the same as what the Slayer had done. Threatening to call similar curses on her.  
  
She wasn't Buffy anymore. Buffy was gone, still dead. He didn't know this person, this cold, emotionless thing in the back room. But Anya was right... there was a need for vengeance.  
  
end Broken Pedestal. 


	5. You Ruined Everything

Author: Lucinda

pairing: mention of Willow/Spike and Buffy/Spike

fifth in Second Best story-line.

rating: PG 13, angst, heartache, some bad words

Disclaimer: I do not own anyone from the show Buffy the Vampire Slayer.

Distribution: any lists that I send this to, WLS, QPC, Bite Me, Cat, Feen, Soulmates, WWW - anyone else please ask

note: set in AU season 6. Willow and Tara never got back together after Glory, and instead Willow hooked up with Spike. Tara left Sunnydale. Willow resurrected Buffy. Buffy then proceeded to use Spike while he was dating Willow, without Willow's knowledge.

Sb5. sb5. sb5.

Xander had left the Magic Box, leaving Anya screaming at Buffy. He couldn't stand the idea of being near the Slayer for another moment. It was like she was making his skin crawl, or maybe that was just the knowledge of what she'd done. But he couldn't stay with Buffy, no matter how disgusting he thought her actions were, or how badly he thought she deserved being screamed at.

But wait, there had been someone else involved in that terrible betrayal. Spike. The guy that Willow had fallen in love with, the person that had come to mean an appalling amount to his best friend. They guy who had ripped her heart out. And since Spike was still chipped, then he could go scream at the vampire to his hearts content.

He made his way to the apartment where Willow and Spike had decided to make a future. Considering the bright sunlight, he was fairly certain that Spike would be here. The door wasn't even locked, so he just pushed it open and walked inside.

Shadows filled the room, the thick curtains blocking the sunlight almost entirely. Darker shapes hinted at furniture. Scowling, Xander felt along the wall until he found the switch, and with a single click, light flooded the room.

Spike was sort of collapsed in a chair, his clothing disheveled, his hair sticking up in many directions instead of its usual slick dome. He looked really pale, even for a vampire, and there were dark circles on his eyes, and half blurred red lines over his cheeks. He looked like a wreck. Good.

Xander walked over, his hand slowly closing into a fist. Standing in front of the vampire, he waited a moment for some sort of acknowledgement of his presence, but there was nothing. He practically growled as his fist flew forwards, connecting to Spike's jaw with a finger-numbing crack.

Spike reacted to that, growling and glaring at Xander with yellow eyes.

"Save it for someone who cares, bleach boy. I want to know why you were such an incredible ass-hole. Willow thought she could trust you, thought that maybe she'd actually found someone that would understand just how damn bad it hurt to be cheated on. Instead, she got you. She got someone cruel enough to fuck her best friend and think that she wouldn't know. Willow isn't stupid, Spike. She just trusts too easy." Xander's voice was low and hard, not loud enough to carry beyond the apartment but almost a growl of rage.

"I…" Spike tried to say something.

Xander hit him again, wondering if there was something wrong with the jolt of dark pleasure the action gave him. "Save it. I don't think there's anything in the world that can justify what you did. You broke her trust. You had someone who loved you, someone who looked at you and saw a pretty special guy, and you threw it all away just to find out if Buffy's really a natural blond."

Xander started to pace, his hand not quite numb, sort of throbbing. "I thought you might have been a decent enough guy, yesterday. Considering how you'd made Willow happy, how she'd convinced us all to give you a chance. But you aren't. You are a monster, and not because of those yellow eyes and teeth. Only a monster or a moron would do something that stupid. Morons don't speak a dozen languages, so you can't take the idiot excuse."

"You've broken Willow's heart. You could have had a good life... unlife, whatever you call it. But you ruined it. You ruined everything." Xander shook his head, wishing that this would somehow be more satisfying. But as much as it had felt good to hit Spike, it wouldn't fix anything. "You broke Willow's heart and her trust. I hope Anya curses you so that your parts shrivel up and fall off, once she finishes her rant at Buffy."

Standing in the doorway, he glared once more at the vampire. "You ruined everything, you undead bastard. I really hope that you can live with that, because if not... hey, you got some nice windows right over there. Personally, I'm sort of hoping you get something a lot more lingering and drawn out. More painful."

He slammed the door behind him. Willow hadn't been there. Where could his friend be? She must feel horrible… If only he could find her. Maybe he could help her a little, even if only to listen.

End You Ruined Everything.


	6. Tears

Second Best 6: Tears  
  
Author: Lucinda  
  
pairing: mention of Willow/Spike and Buffy/Spike  
  
sixth in Second Best story-line.  
  
rating: PG 13, angst, heartache, some bad words   
  
Disclaimer: I do not own anyone from the show Buffy the Vampire Slayer.  
  
Distribution: any lists that I send this to, WLS, QPC, Bite Me, Cat, Feen, Soulmates, WWW - anyone else please ask  
  
note: set in AU season 6. Willow and Tara never got back together after Glory, and instead Willow hooked up with Spike. Tara left Sunnydale. Willow resurrected Buffy. Buffy then proceeded to use Spike while he was dating Willow, without Willow's knowledge.  
  
  
  
  
  
Willow sniffled as she looked out the window. She'd ended up far from Sunnydale, which had been her goal. But she hadn't thought about the fact that weather anywhere else would be different from Southern California. Right now, it was raining. The sky was a dull, dark grey, and water poured down, like a flood of tears from heaven. It was oddly fitting for her mood. She was crying, again, why shouldn't the sky cry as well?  
  
It seemed like she couldn't stop crying lately. Ever since she'd seen Spike and Buffy... since she'd discovered first hand that once again, someone that she'd given her heart to had decided to have sex with someone else. Like Oz had, now Spike. She hadn't known that it would hurt this much. As if her insides had been ripped open, and salty lemon juice just barely above freezing poured inside of her. But it would pass, it had to pass. It had to pass eventually.  
  
She could learn to function without him, without the person that had become her everything. She understood now just how much it had hurt him to think of Dru with Angelus, how the pain of it had ripped inside, burning and freezing until nothing felt right... She wiped her cheek, feeling the tears trickling down her face again. He'd become everything to her, friend, lover, stability and protection, and now, all of that was ripped away. Because he might have lived with her, but he'd been creeping out to have Buffy.  
  
Willow wanted to hate him for it. She thought that maybe she did hate Buffy now, certainly the Slayer only brought up feelings of pain, betrayal, and anger now. That and the burning wish that she'd just left Buffy dead. But she couldn't hate Spike. Not entirely. No matter how badly it hurt, no matter how furious it made her, the pain was worse because she still loved him. Despite the way he'd lied to her, betrayed her love and trust, sought... well, Buffy, she still loved Spike.  
  
Love sucked.  
  
She wasn't quite certain at the moment why she'd even been willing to risk trying love again. She'd loved Xander for years, and that had gone from unnoticed longing to impaling disaster. She'd loved Oz, and he'd found himself a wolfy bitch and been gone, but not until he'd cheated on her, killed the bitch, and nearly killed her. Tara had been... well, it could have been something wonderful, except for Glory. Then, she'd fallen for Spike. Stupid thing to do, really. She'd known how hung up he'd been over Dru, about his crush on Buffy, but she'd still... Stupid. Love had made her into an overly trusting idiot.  
  
Willow closed her eyes, the faces of her loves dancing in front of her, images on the backs of her eyelids. She felt another stab of pain, and wondered how she would ever be able to manage. How she would be able to start a new life, at a new college when the shattered remnants of her heart had been left in a cemetery back in Sunnydale. She had to be able to manage. To be strong enough, self reliant enough to lurch through this new life. After all, she'd let herself fall apart after Oz, and it had gotten her absolutely nothing. She'd fallen apart when Tara had left, weeping and moping, and it had gotten her nothing. She could see a pattern when it was that obvious.  
  
No more love. Not ever again. It only left her bleeding and crying... well, not literally bleeding, but this was close enough. Physical wounds would be easier than this emotional pain. She didn't have enough of her heart left to risk it again. Another loss like that would surely kill her, not that she felt like she was alive in any more than the biological sense anyhow.  
  
The worst part, she kept dreaming about him. Dreaming of the happier times with Spike, how they would walk together, make love under the moonlight, or in their room in the golden glow of candles. The way that he'd made her feel cherished and beautiful... Other dreams were different. He looked horrible, gaunt, bruised, tear tracks over his face as he begged for her to come back, to be safe, to forgive him. Dreams where he swore that Buffy had been a mistake, that he was sorry, that he'd do anything if she'd just come back to him... He looked as miserable as she felt, in those dreams.  
  
But neither the memories of the good times nor her own wistful hopes would make her go back. Back to being the oblivious doting girlfriend, the lovestruck sap that was too wrapped up in dreams of her lover to realize that he was only using her, only settling because the woman he really wanted wouldn't have him in public. She hoped that he'd noticed that she was gone, that he was at least a little upset, but... Willow couldn't survive in Sunnydale.  
  
Especially not since Buffy had become… well, she was still the Slayer, but she'd ended up being such a cold hearted bitch. Deliberately going after someone else's lover because she could… Hitting Willow when confronted about it… At least the bruise was nearly gone now. No, Sunnydale would not be good for her health, not if Buffy felt that she had the right to strike Willow for her objections.  
  
She would miss Xander, and Giles. Maybe even Anya. The memories of happier times, high school, Spike, everything… they felt like a weight dragging her back into a pit of pain and tears. But she couldn't stay there, not in Sunnydale, not in her tears. She had to claw her way out, to stagger on, or else… If not, why bother with anything?  
  
She sighed, listening to the rain drown out the sound of her tears.  
  
End Second Best 6: Tears. 


	7. Hell or High Water

Author: Lucinda  
  
pairing: mention of Willow/Spike and Buffy/Spike  
  
Seventh in Second Best story-line.  
  
rating: PG 13, angst, heartache, bad words from Spike  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own anyone from the show Buffy the Vampire Slayer.  
  
Distribution: any lists that I send this to, WLS, QPC, Bite Me, Cat, Feen, Soulmates, WWW - anyone else please ask  
  
note: set in AU season 6. Willow and Tara never got back together after Glory, and instead Willow hooked up with Spike. Tara left Sunnydale. Willow resurrected Buffy. Buffy then proceeded to use Spike while he was dating Willow, without Willow's knowledge.  
  
  
  
Spike had wanted to rage and scream at Xander when he'd dropped by the apartment. Wanted to feel angry, and try something painful and violent against the annoying bastard. But he didn't, and not entirely because of the damned chip in his head. There was the aspect where the boy, no, Xander was a man now, but still annoying. Xander had been right. He'd had something wonderful, and he'd fucked it all up - literally. Damn interfering Slayer bitch, he should have just... they should have left her dead. Everything would have been good if Buffy had never come back.  
  
But that didn't really let him off the hook, now did it? He'd still gone to the worthless bitch, still become her toy that ran to her when she crooked a little finger, just lain there and taken any scrap that she'd give him. And why? Well, he'd like to plead temporary insanity, except that he wasn't quite sure. Was it just that she'd been the one that had got away? Was it some sort of death wish, or subconscious sabotaging of his own happiness? Had it been some damned effect of the Slayer? Did it really matter anymore why, since the fact that he had had made such a mess?  
  
He didn't love the Slayer now, if he ever really had. Didn't want to be with her, anywhere near her, actually. He just wanted Willow back.  
  
Willow wasn't going to come back to Sunnydale. Not with the Slayer hitting her like that, not after seeing him and B... the Slayer doing what they'd been doing. His red probably thought that he'd just been using her, just... That she was nothing to him, no more than a warm body and a place to stay. That idea actually hurt worse than the fiery agony of the chip. He'd never wanted to hurt her... well, not for a long time, and never like that. Back when she'd just been some nameless human, or just the Slayer's Witch, he'd thought about ways to hurt her, but those had all been simple, physical pain, not this emotional torture.  
  
He wasn't quite certain what prompted the idea. He'd been drinking a lot, and the words had been echoing in his head when he'd woken up, his muscles aching, bruises from a half remembered fight adding color to his face, and the taste like something had crawled into his mouth and rotted. 'Why not go find her?' If his Willow had gone away, why not go after her?  
  
Regardless of where the idea had come from, it felt... right. Like it would work, like it was the right sort of thing to do. Willow was the one who made him whole, who saw him as someone with layers, complexities, depth. She was the one who held the possibility of a joyful future, if he could find her. If he could convince her to give him another chance. Of course, she could be anywhere by now, and all he knew was that she'd gone, left Sunnydale without a forwarding address, not that he could blame her.  
  
But he had to find her. Had to try to convince her that he'd been an idiot, well, that shouldn't be too difficult. But to convince her that the damn Slayer had been a terrible mistake, and that the only person he loved was Willow... Oh, he'd have to grovel, and apologize for the next twenty years, and probably... flowers and chocolates. But before he could even try to grovel, he had to find her. And he would.  
  
Come Hell or high water, he would find his Willow. Hell or high water... almost an ironic phrase, considering that he was in Sunnydale, a place almost always on the verge of Hell, and High water a possibility from the tides. But he understood the idea behind it - to pursue the goal without allowing any sort of danger or obstacle to defeat you. Not the Slayer, or the Hellmouth, or the chip, of the fact that she'd gone without leaving a clue to her new location. He would find her. He had to.  
  
Willow was too important to let anything short of his permanent, dusty death stop him from finding her. And once he did… well, then the groveling would commence. Especially since he knew why she'd left, and it was his fault. His and that damned Slayer, but still… He was the one who cared about fixing it. She was too important, too special and caring and passionate to just let her slip away from him, even if he had dropped the ball, so to speak.  
  
Okay, maybe not so much dropped as drop-kicked, but he knew that he'd made the biggest fucking mistake of his miserable unlife, and that had to count towards earning her forgiveness, right? Because he was determined that he would, no matter how hard it was, or how much it took. Hell or high water, he'd find her, and do his best to win her back.  
  
The only other options were death or despair, and he wasn't a quitter.  
  
"I'm going to find you again, baby. And when I do… you can kick my ass. Just as long as you let me back in, let me back into your life." His whisper fell into the night air, and almost seemed to be carried away. If it was carried away, and not just the humidity, maybe it would reach Willow? He could hope, at least.  
  
End Second Best 7: Hell or High Water. 


	8. Right Here

Author: Lucinda  
  
pairing: mention of Willow/Spike and Buffy/Spike  
  
eighth in Second Best story-line.  
  
rating: PG 13, angst, heartache  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own anyone from the show Buffy the Vampire Slayer.  
  
Distribution: any lists that I send this to, WLS, QPC, Bite Me, Cat, Feen, Soulmates, WWW - anyone else please ask  
  
note: set in AU season 6. Willow and Tara never got back together after Glory, and instead Willow hooked up with Spike. Tara left Sunnydale. Willow resurrected Buffy. Buffy then proceeded to use Spike while he was dating Willow, without Willow's knowledge.  
  
Dedicated to Fayth and Gabrielle, who asked so persistently for more.  
  
Willow walked along the path, headed back to her apartment after class. She had been lucky to transfer in, although it had meant that there were no dorms available, and she'd had to compromise a bit with her class schedule. At least she hadn't seen anything to indicate that New Haven, Conneticut had the same sort of supernatural problems that Sunnydale did. No signs of packs of vampires, or demons trying to start the apocalypse, or heartless Slayers…   
  
She missed the way things had been. Back before, when Sunnydale was… well, it had never really been happy. Back when Buffy was her friend, and she could walk down the street smiling. Or when she could cuddle with Spike, the vampire that she loved. She missed being happy.  
  
Maybe that happiness had let her become complacent, had caused her to miss the signs? Had there been… Of course there had been signs. The way he'd been so obsessed over Her before, the way he'd gone secretive. The bruises and scrapes that he'd got 'on patrol'. And she'd been blind, and trusting, and believed him when he said nothing was wrong, believed him when he said he was happy there with her.  
  
She still tried to stay alert, to keep aware of her surroundings, just in case there was a vampire, or a human mugger. Her magic had been a bit… unpredictable lately, possibly a side effect of her emotional distress. There was still a wooden stake and a bottle of holy water in her backpack, just in case.  
  
A flicker of something pale caught her eyes, and for a moment, she could almost imagine that she'd seen Spike, underneath one of the trees. There was a blond man there, a cigarette in one hand, the tip glowing in the darkness. But it couldn't be Spike, because Spike was back in Sunnydale, probably playing naughty games with Buffy…  
  
Thunder rumbled overhead, and a few fat drops of rain began to fall. Willow wasn't certain if her sudden emotional downturn had caused it, or if it was just one of those miserable coincidences, like hearing his favorite song on the radio on her way to class. The smell of leather and cigarettes together. She'd even found herself getting all teary eyed at the sight of someone else with one of those old, beat up cars like Spike had.  
  
The blond man moved from the trees, meandering… no, more like stalking or swaggering along the path. He reminded her so much of Spike, even if only at a distance, that she couldn't bear to look at him. She couldn't bear to look at a half familiar blond man and have him yet again be so glaringly not Spike. And if by some impossible twist of fate, it was Spike? That would be… she had no words to describe how painfully awkward that would be. What could you say to the person that had broken your heart? 'Long time no see, what brings you here?' Or maybe she could ask about Sunnydale… or not.  
  
The rain started to fall more heavily, and a breeze picked up. Cold drops of water almost felt like they were stabbing at her back and arms, and the breeze carries the scent of leather and cigarettes, the same brand that Spike smoked. Her vision blurred as the tears started to glide down her cheeks, leaving warm lines behind them.  
  
"Hey Red." Lee was another student that had an apartment in this building, and they would study together for the history class that they were both in. Neither of them were particularly struggling with the class, but Lee had shyly confessed that the studying felt a lot less dull with someone there to talk to. A short, slightly plump girl with dark hair that had been two different shades of red, black and brown in the month and a half that Willow had known her, Lee intended to go into advertising for a few years, 'just until she was old enough for congress'.  
  
Tonight, the way that Lee would sometimes call her Red reminded her painfully of Spike. Weakly, Willow smiled at her. "Hey there. So… chapter nine?"  
  
"Yeah. I even have popcorn." Lee reached out, catching Willow's wrist to tow her into the building and towards the stairs. "Who's the sexy bad boy following you?"  
  
Willow blinked, and slowly turned, enough that she could look to try to figure out who on earth Lee could possibly be talking about. She wasn't the type to have guys following her, let alone sexy ones, and especially not sexy bad boys. Her eyes immediately found the man who had been following her, the blond from under the tree. Everything felt like it had slowed down and tilted at a funny angle, and it was as if she was looking down a tunnel. All of her being was focused on the man standing there on the steps of the apartment. "Spike…"  
  
"Red. What brings you all the way to Conneticut?" He leaned on the railing beside the steps, not quite smiling, but looking at her. Spike's hair was mussed, and now that he was close, she could see the dark roots starting to grow in. He almost seemed a bit thinner and paler.  
  
"College. Away from Sunnydale, away from cheating lovers. What brings you here?" Willow was half astonished that she could even manage words, half furious that he was here, half overjoyed that she wasn't going crazy, half filled with wildly unrealistic hopes, and half heartbroken all over again. Wait, wasn't that a few too many halves? In a half heartbeat, she decided that she didn't care if that was too many halves, it was the simplest way to describe how she felt right now – confused and emotionally overloaded.  
  
"I was looking for you." His voice had gone soft, taking the almost gentle tone that he'd used when they were snuggled up together, just enjoying each other's company. "I had something planned out, I even wrote a bloody outline. But now that I've found you… I'm sorry. I was an utter idiot, and I'm sorry."  
  
Willow blinked, hardly daring to believe that he'd said what she'd thought he had. That he was sorry. Did that mean that… Had he come to try to win her back? Had he realized that he'd thrown away the best thing that had ever happened to him? Or had Buffy just kept tossing him aside until he figured it would be better to have someone, anyone? The very fact that he was here sent everything spinning, disrupting the fragile balance that she'd found in her life. She wasn't sure quite how to react – did she give him another chance, or try to protect the still aching remnants of her heart?  
  
"Willow? Please… say something. Anything." He took a step closer, dropping the cigarette to reach towards her, his face so full of pain and wistfulness and hope that it took her breath away.  
  
"Spike… I can't believe you're here. And yes, you were an idiot." The words slipped from her mouth right as she turned and bolted upstairs, tears blurring her vision. Spike was here… hope and fear and despair churned inside of her, and she didn't know which was the most dangerous. Spike was here.  
  
Willow ran up the stairs, her feet thankfully not needing any conscious direction. Spike was here, and she had to figure out what to do, or at least what to think. Why had he come here, had he been looking for her? If he had, was it because he wanted her back? Did he care, or was it an issue of pride? Why did he care what she did when he was the one who'd been cheating? She wasn't quite clear how she got into her apartment, surely her hands would be shaking too much to use her keys? But the next thing that she was clear on, she was curled in her big leather chair, sobbing all over again about him.  
  
What was she going to do?  
  
End Second Best 8: Right Here. 


	9. How Does Your Garden Grow?

Author: Lucinda  
  
Pairing: Willow/Spike  
  
Ninth in Second Best story line.  
  
Rating: PG 13, angst, heartache  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own anyone from the show Buffy the Vampire Slayer.  
  
Distribution: any lists that I send this to, WLS, QPC, Bite Me, Cat, Feen, Soulmates, WWW - anyone else please ask  
  
Note: set in AU season 6.   
  
Dedicated to Fayth who asked so persistently for more and Gabrielle who let me bounce ideas off of her and offered a few suggestions.  
  
  
  
  
  
Spike stood blinking at the place where Willow had stood mere moments before. He could probably go into the building, could even follow the scent of her to her room, but... Somehow, he didn't think that she'd let him in just now. Not unless it was to douse him in holy water. "That could have gone better."  
  
"Should I even ask why seeing you has her so upset?" The chit that his Red had been talking to was looking him over, her eyes both hard and predatory.  
  
"Red and I were involved a while back. Something happened that shouldn't, and now she's here." He lit a new cigarette from the dying remnant of the last one, inhaling the smoke to keep from thinking too much about his colossal stupidity.  
  
"Right, you followed her here from California because there was a misunderstanding?" There was sarcasm in her voice.  
  
"Actually, I tracked her down to try to get her back. There really isn't much to misunderstand - I was a damn idiot, and I'm very sorry now. The question is how do I get her to listen to that?" His eyes had gone once more to the stairs that Willow had rushed up.  
  
"Grovel profusely, and send flowers." The girl smirked at him, and pulled out a scrap of paper, scribbling down something. "Have them delivered to her apartment. But if you hurt her again, so help me God, I'm going to track you down and kick your ass."  
  
Part of him wanted to laugh at the idea that some mortal college student could kick his ass, but another part was glad that she cared enough about Willow to make the threat. "I don't want to hurt her. And I figured that I'd have to grovel, probably for a damn long time. But I won't be able to do that if she keeps running away."  
  
With a shrug, the girl turned away and started up the stairs. "You figure that one out. I have a test to study for. But she's got that night class every Tuesday and Thursday."  
  
Spike meandered away from the door, pausing to look up. Which window was hers? Did she have the light on, or was she up in her room, sitting in the dark? He looked at the paper, reading the scrawled words. 'Forest Ridge, apartment 207'. That should put her room right about there… He frowned at the dark window, pained by the idea of her sitting along and miserable in a dark room. Even more painful was the knowledge that it was his fault.  
  
There had to be a way to fix this, to at least… to at least convince her to let him apologize. And he wasn't leaving until he figured out what it was. He'd stay here, trying to watch over her. Maybe he should make sure nothing tried to eat her on the way back from that class? He could send her flowers, maybe those little chocolates with the caramel centers, and some cute little stuffed animals? He'd just have to keep it up until he convinced her to listen.  
  
The dozen red roses that he had delivered the next day ended up thrown to the ground outside her window, which at least confirmed which one it was. On the brighter side, he hadn't seen the card that he'd had delivered with it. Maybe that was something?  
  
The next day, he tried something different, thinking that perhaps the problem was that he'd sent roses. Red roses, the most common thing that a man could send to a woman, the flowers that any man would send to any woman. Willow wasn't just any woman, she was special, and he had to make certain that she knew he didn't just view her as a replacement for someone else or a warm body in his bed. Instead of the traditional roses, he had a colorful bouquet of mixed flowers that had white, blue, pink, yellow, pale purple and a couple tiger lilies, which were the only flowers in the whole batch that he could actually identify, and those because Willow had told him once that she liked them. He could still remember asking her 'Luv, what the hell is a tiger lily? Does it have stripes, or act sort of like catnip on the overgrown cats?'. The card said 'I'm sorry – let me tell you in person? S.'  
  
He followed her back from her class, not quite close enough for her to see him. She looked so withdrawn, as if she was holding everything inside of her. Was she thinking about him, about them? Was she plotting his painful torture as… well, if it was part of the groveling, he'd grit his teeth and take it, but if it was just out of anger and pain he'd be less happy with the end result. Or maybe there was someone else trying to win her affections? He felt himself growling at the very idea of anyone else even thinking about touching his Willow.  
  
Maybe he should just consider it progress that she hadn't thrown out his gift? Spike shook his head, watching as she walked, shivering occasionally from the cool wind. Willow needed a better coat if she was going to be in a place that got cold, not that little thing from Sunnydale. Maybe he could give her one, to keep her from getting sick? He really didn't think that she'd be going back to Sunnydale for anything short of an Apocalypse, and maybe not even then.  
  
Only after she'd returned safely to her apartment, the light shining out from the window as she moved inside did he stop lurking. What sort of coat to get for her? It had to be warm, and something that she would like, something that would appeal to her without making her feel like she was being pushed back to the girl that she had been years ago.  
  
He started searching, spending hours looking for just the right one. In the end, he found one that reminded him of her. It was a deep green that was almost black, with gold threads worked into the seams, and lined with something that looked like golden silk, although the texture wasn't right for silk. The cut was definitely feminine without being too revealing, which made him think of her as well. He had it wrapped carefully into a box, pausing to scrawl a message over the top - For you, to keep you warm and safe.  
  
Spike left it in front of her apartment door, planning dire punishment to anyone who might dream of interfering with it besides Willow. All that was left was to hope that she would like it, hope that she might be willing to let him back into her life, even if it wasn't right back into her arms. He wished that he could be there to see the look on her face when she found it, but it would probably be after the sun had risen.  
  
Hopefully, she'd like the coat better than the roses.  
  
Then he retreated to the miserable motel room that he was staying at, cursing the sunlight that prevented him from being able to see her, to wait for her. Would she like it or hate it? Would she be willing to speak to him yet, or would he have to send her cute fluffy toys and chocolates with the caramel or almonds inside? What if even after all the effort to get her to listen, she still wanted nothing to do with him? What if she listened to his apology and demanded that he get out of her life, that he go away and never come back? Well, that was almost easy – he didn't think that he could just go away.  
  
What made it stickier was the fact that he knew that convincing her to let him apologize wasn't all that it would take to win her back to him. He'd been foolish, and had hurt her deeply. How could he convince her that she was the only woman that he wanted, that he wasn't just looking for a warm body? How could he make her see that she meant more to him than anyone else? He'd always found himself watching Dru, wondering when the next time that she'd cheat would be, and he didn't want Willow to have those doubts – especially since he wouldn't cheat on her. Belief was emotion, and it didn't work neatly. If he wanted to make an omelet, there were simple steps – crack the eggs, add a few things, stir and heat – you get an omelet. But with emotions, he could grovel, send flowers, candy, anything you could name, and he had no way to know if she would believe him or not, if she still cared the same way or not.  
  
But he had to try. He'd known that she was special from the beginning, although it hadn't been until they'd become involved that he'd started to appreciate just how much she did to help. Not just the magic or the research, but the little things to smooth the tensions, or the ways that she' keep them from getting to caught up. Xander did some to keep the tensions down, but… Those two had kept things moving almost smoothly, and her departure had left things in a lurch. Not that anything had been quite the way it should have been since she'd cast that resurrection spell. It wasn't until she'd left him that he'd realized just how firmly she'd wound herself around his heart, how deeply the pain of her leaving could go. Without her, he couldn't see the point of going on, not that he would actually do himself in.  
  
He didn't see her the night after he'd left the coat at her door like an offering. He didn't see any sign that she'd got the gift, or any sign that she'd rejected it like the roses. He did find a couple young vampires trying to prey on the college students, and quietly killed them, worried by the possibility of those young fools trying to hurt his Willow. He tried to figure out where all the buildings were around the campus, so that he would have a better idea of where to find Willow and where she spent her days, and came to the conclusion that it was definitely a different caliber of school that the Sunnydale College.  
  
Looking at a few of the bulletin boards in the various buildings, Spike had been a bit impressed. This wasn't just a different caliber of school, but it seemed like one that would be able to challenge Willow's mind academically. Surely it would be better – safer – for her to be challenged by chemistry and lectures on physics or anatomy than with trying to decipher a badly written German prophecy? Surely it would give her fewer nightmares to study the literature of the Romantic authors and the Neo-Raphaelites than to spend hours reviewing the habits of assorted demons?  
  
He'd even found a few advertisements for poetry readings and literature discussions, and the part of him that was still William the aspiring poet had stirred deep inside of him. Maybe he could stay here, make a new life. Maybe he could even take a few night classes, listen to some of the readings? His mind had started spinning wispy images of himself making a new life here with Willow, no Slayers in sight to complicate things. Yeah…  
  
But he had to remember to keep things in perspective. None of the happy, Slayer-free future that he'd been picturing would happen unless she would speak to him, forgive him. He would have to win her back, although that didn't mean that he couldn't look into a few things, like maybe a better home. Maybe he could check into the possibility of night classes as well? Then again, there could be a few problems on account of being dead, and not having one of those social security numbers. Actually, from a legal perspective, he was an illegal immigrant, not having a passport, or going through customs. The idea was actually enough to make him smile.  
  
He spent the next day looking through a listing of houses and other buildings that were currently for sale. He didn't want to stay in this miserable hotel forever, and the apartment that Willow was in looked a bit small, judging from the outside windows. He also ordered another flower arrangement sent to her, one of little blue flowers and white roses, and a card reading 'I'm blue without you – S'.  
  
He went out again the next night, hoping to see her, even if only from a distance. He wanted to make certain that she was alright, that she was safe. The precise shade of red that was her hair and the soft sound of her laughter had been missing from his existence. Actually, he was just past the looming white shape of the campus library when he saw a flash of red in the moonlight. A shade of red that he would know anywhere, the color of Willow's hair. Emotions churned inside of him – worry for her, confusion as to what she would be doing out after dark, joy at seeing her again, and hope.  
  
Walking closer, he realized that she was wearing the coat that he'd given her. It fit just perfectly, and her hair shone against it. Surely that was a sign that there was hope for him, for them? He didn't think that he'd made any noise, but Willow stopped, her whole body going still for a moment. Slowly, she turned around, and looked right at him.  
  
"Spike." Her voice held a complex blend of emotions, nervousness, hope, uncertainty, desire. "Thank you for the coat."  
  
"Red… Willow." He took another step closer, so that they were close enough that if he reached out, he'd touch her soft cheek. "Can we talk? Please?"  
  
It felt like an eternity that she stood there, her eyes flickering over him as she considered. Was she looking at him for changes? Trying to read his emotions, his intent from his face? Had she missed him as much as he'd missed her? Or was she trying to make up her mind what to say to him? Spike stood there, feeling hope and fear throb inside of him almost like a heartbeat.  
  
"I think that might be good." Those soft words, and the little smile were the most precious thing in the world at that moment.  
  
End Second Best 9: How Does Your Garden Grow? 


	10. Silver Bells and Cockle Shells

Author: Lucinda  
  
pairing: Willow/Spike  
  
tenth in Second Best story-line.  
  
rating: PG 13, angst, heartache  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own anyone from the show Buffy the Vampire Slayer.  
  
Distribution: any lists that I send this to, WLS, QPC, Bite Me, Cat, Feen, Soulmates, WWW - anyone else please ask  
  
note: set in AU season 6. Parts of this story overlap #9, but this is told from Willow's PoV.  
  
Morning eventually rolled in, and Willow found herself awake, hungry and sore eyed from all that weeping. More tears over Spike... She'd been almost done with crying over him, until he'd shown up. Hope flickered, as Willow remembered his words - he'd said he had been an idiot, and he was sorry. That didn't sound like he was just bored.  
  
Despite the warm feeling the idea gave, she was still angry over the whole disaster of Sunnydale. Spike and Buffy - the image had burned itself into her memory, and it would take more than him showing up looking all sexy and smiling at her. No, he'd have some serious work ahead of him. And how did he even find her?  
  
  
  
Frustrated with the tangle of her thoughts, Willow decided to have a shower, and then breakfast before calling Xander with a few questions, like did he give her location away to that... to Spike. She loved Spike still, even after, but love wasn't the same as trust, and a relationship required both. If he'd found her on his own, then... Well, she wasn't quite sure what it meant, but it was different than if he'd just been given an address and dropped over.  
  
She'd only just gone to the little kitchen area to consider what she had available when there was a knock at the door. Peeking through the little spy hole, Willow discovered that it was a deliveryman. More specifically, it was a flower deliveryman, with a dozen red roses for her.  
  
Red roses... they were pretty, but so entirely traditional. Didn't every movie and television have all the guys sending red roses to the women in their lives? All the women, any woman. She'd always preferred white ones anyhow, or those sort of peach colored ones. Shouldn't he know that, remember that about her?  
  
Buffy had loved red roses. When that floated to her awareness, Willow could barely keep from screaming, and settled for hurling the flowers out the window. Who needed red roses anyhow?  
  
She kept the card though.  
  
It was later that she called Xander, having remembered the time difference. He probably wouldn't have appreciated getting a call when he was trying to get ready for work? She felt off balance and unsettled the whole day, wondering about Spike, and the flowers, and what he had meant and intended.  
  
Finally, she figured that it would be a good time to call Xander, and slowly punched in the numbers to ring his house. The phone rang, and she sat down, suddenly feeling nervous.  
  
:Hello? We don't need to buy anything, and we can't afford to give any money to charity, so...: Anya's unmistakable voice sounded a rather cranky.  
  
"Hey Anya. I hope I wasn't interrupting anything. umm.... Could I talk to Xander?" Willow wondered what had her best friend's girlfriend so upset.  
  
:Willow, I'd say of course, but he's not home just yet. How's everything going for you?: Anya sounded a little less angry, so Willow assumed that she probably wasn't the source of the annoyance.  
  
"Everything's... well, it's going. Classes are about how I'd expected, the apartment is smaller than the one in Sunnydale... and oh yeah, Spike showed up last night." Willow sighed, rubbing at her temple.  
  
:Spike? You mean... Well, I had wondered what happened to him.: Anya sounded almost thoughtful now. :Maybe he's not quite as dumb as Xander keeps saying he looks.:  
  
"What do you mean, what had happened to him?" Willow wondered if maybe the answer would be some clue to how to react.  
  
:He left Sunnydale over a month ago. He was just gone, along with some things, so we knew that he wasn't dead.: There was a pause, and in a softer voice, Anya continued. :He'd been absolutely miserable looking before that, which I thought was entirely fitting and proper.:  
  
"How's everybody else? You and Xander, Giles... I miss you." Willow leaned back in her chair, curling her feet under her.  
  
:Giles is annoyed at life, and he keeps yelling at the computer. Xander's job is going well, and they've been very busy. That's good for his career, but it makes it harder to cuddle up with him. And Sunnydale's greatest bitch is suffering from an itching burning rash, a bleeding ulcer, abdominal cramps, and frizzy hair. She's a bit more resistant to the level of magic that I have now, unfortunately.: Anya sounded annoyed again. :She keeps going on about how you were just over reacting, and how nobody should have been surprised. I'm a bit curious why you didn't just kill her and be done with it.:  
  
"I didn't know if I would stop if I did. The whole world isn't a fair price for getting rid of her." Willow shook her head, and then considered one of the things that Anya had said. "Frizzy hair?"  
  
:Hit where it hurts - she's got a bit of a vain streak.: Anya was caught between gloating and hopeful.  
  
"I guess so. It's just... nothing will ever be the same again. There was something, more than trust, and she broke it. Maybe I shouldn't have brought her back, maybe things would have been better if she'd just stayed dead." Willow sighed, her eyes flickering to the little envelope that had been with the roses. Maybe she should read the card? Her fingers reached out, brushing the surface, before she pulled them back again. Whatever he'd wrote could wait a little longer.  
  
There was a sound from the phone, as if a door had been shut, and then Xander's voice came across. :Willow! How are you? Wait, Anya probably asked that already. Nothing's wrong, is it?:  
  
  
  
"I'm not sure. What I am sure of is that everything's been knocked off balance again. Want to take a guess who showed up here last night?" Willow could feel her mood improving as she talked to Xander.  
  
:Spike's there in Connecticut? What... how?: Xander's shock was evident.  
  
"Yeah, it was a bit of a shock. I was on my way out of class and there he was." Willow was letting her fingers trace patterns over the arm of the chair, thinking about everything. "He made it sound... I think he might be trying to win me back."  
  
:Will you take him back?: Xander sounded worried.  
  
"I... I really don't know. I love him, but he hurt me once, in Sunnydale. How can I know that he won't do it again? How can I be sure that he really wants me, and isn't just settling because I can accept the vampire and the man and the chip?" Willow shook her head, trying to push her questions down again. "What I can be certain of is that him showing up like that has shaken everything up."  
  
:If he sounds sincere, you might want to think about giving him a second chance. Anya's suggesting truth spells, or slow dismemberment if he screws up again. And if he sounds likely to do anything like this again, beat him to death with a shovel. Or I can come out and do it for you.: Xander offered the words slowly, obviously wanting her to be happy and uncertain just how that would happen.  
  
"Xander, that's really sweet of you to offer. Hopefully, it won't be necessary." Willow found herself smiling as things moved to less serious matters, like the new jokes that Xander had heard, and a couple stories about his job that were clearly intended to distract her.  
  
After she'd put the phone down, Willow looked at the envelope again. There was no reason not to read it now, and she was rather curious. Slowly, she lifted it up, and slid it open with trembling fingers. It held only three short words 'I'm Sorry - Spike' but the message was clear. Spike had found her in order to try to fix things, to win her back. It still didn't quite tell her if he wanted her for Willow or just as someone who could accept him and wouldn't be repulsed by the vampire or the chip, but it was something to know.  
  
The question of his motivation and if she should give him a second chance danced in her mind the next day. She was supposed to be focusing on circular functions, and the measurements of angles, but part of her mind was still on Spike. She loved him, and she still dreamed of him holding her close, but that horrible image of him and Buffy kept her from just opening her arms and welcoming him back into her life. Could she trust him? Could she survive it if the answer was no? Could she live with the chance that the answer would have been 'yes' if she just walked away now?  
  
Maybe she should see if he was wiling to try more than roses to get her to listen? If he wasn't willing to work a little to apologize, then he wouldn't be willing to work at a relationship. If he hadn't learned anything about what she liked in the months that they'd been together, then he wasn't worth the heartache anyhow.  
  
The next day, the flower deliveryman was back. He had a colorful bouquet of mixed flowers around a pair of beautiful tiger lilies. She smiled this time, and carefully placed them on her table. The note read 'I'm sorry – let me tell you in person? S.'   
  
He'd sent her tiger lilies, which had always been one of her favorites. Had he remembered that, or was it just a lucky coincidence? She wanted so badly to believe that they'd had something special, that he wanted her back because he'd missed her and cared for her, that he could love her like she loved him. But she was afraid that her love would cause her to do something stupid, and lead to her getting hurt again. Even as she doubted, she felt some of her resolve melting away. Maybe she would see what he had to say, maybe she should listen to him in person? Wasn't it far more difficult to lie face to face anyhow?  
  
The next day, she opened the door in the morning to find a box sitting there, taped shut. There was something scrawled on it in Spike's familiar handwriting, although she couldn't read it with the angle the box was at. Her heart had sped up as she lifted the box and carried it inside. Once at a proper angle, she could read the words 'For you, to keep you warm and safe.' Carefully, she opened the box, her mind almost refusing to process that the revealed whiteness was several crinkled sheets of tissue paper. Underneath was a deep green leather coat, with golden threads shimmering in subtle patterns, and a soft golden lining as well.  
  
She couldn't resist trying it on immediately. The lining felt cool and almost sensual over her skin, reminding her of Spike's fingers, and the fit was just the way she liked it – loose enough for a sweater if she wanted, but not too baggy. She lifted the box again, holding it up in a moment of wonder. Where had he found this lovely coat? How much had it cost him to give her this? The coat was so perfect that she couldn't keep herself from grinning in delighted appreciation. Spike was definitely making an effort.  
  
The next day there was a small box, with a fluffy little toy calico cat wearing a big green bow. There wasn't a note with it, but she had no question who had sent it. The gift had her smiling, and she was almost happy as she made her way around the campus. He'd given her a little kitty, something so soft and huggable and utterly… well, non-guy like that it just made her smile and sigh.  
  
Lee even agreed that it was a sweet gesture, although she'd also added that 'Sweet gestures don't mean that he'll treat you right if you take him back. Just that he wants you to.'  
  
Willow had just nodded, knowing that Lee was right. It was a bit of a question just what had made Lee so distrustful of so many men. She almost reminded Willow of Faith with the way she acted – full of flirtations, but not willing to let any of the guys that she dated get close emotionally. Had she just seen too many guys that only wanted to play, or had she been hurt at love before?  
  
Willow had forced herself to attend the small party held to celebrate the opening of a new exhibit at one of the campus art galleries, a display of woodcarvings and masks that had given her goose-bumps and flashbacks of that ancient mask that Joyce Summers had back in her senior year. But none of the things on display had carried even a flicker of magic, which made them safe. They were also interesting to look at. But the party hadn't really felt quite comfortable, and she'd eventually meandered her way outside.  
  
The night air had felt cool, delightful after the stuffy party. She rambled along the sidewalk, letting herself relax and unwind, her senses flowing outwards as she looked up at the stars. They were so clear and sharp… No wonder people had looked to them for guidance for centuries, no wonder some people thought that they could speak. Willow sensed a cool knot of age and tension that carried a faint feel/flavor of blood – a vampire. Not precisely the first that she'd encountered since leaving California, but certainly the most controlled vampire aura that she'd run into.  
  
Her spine prickled, and Willow turned to look at the vampire that she'd felt. He stood there, his pale hair glimmering in the moonlight, looking perfect and wonderful and so appealing. She wanted to fling herself in his arms and never let go, but still she held back, wary of another betrayal. "Spike." Pausing, she, looked at him, wondering what he'd been doing out here. "Thank you for the coat."  
  
He looked at her, his lips curving into a nervous smile. "Red… Willow." He moved closer, his hand half raising, and his eyes filled with so much passion and what looked like longing and sorrow and need that it almost hurt. In a near pleading tone, the words emerged, carrying just far enough to reach her ears. "Can we talk? Please?"  
  
She looked at him, realizing that he really did look thinner than in Sunnydale. And his eyes were focused on her with so much intensity, more than she could easily recall him ever looking at her. It made her feel like she was somehow the most important person on the whole planet, at least to Spike. That took a level of intensity and devotion that only a master actor would be able to fake. She wanted to believe that it was real, that he really cared and wanted her back for herself. That they might be able to have a future. What to do? Should she take the risk of him shattering what was left of her heart, or push him away?  
  
After a deep breath, Willow offered a tiny smile, and a couple soft words. "I think that might be good."   
  
But he wouldn't be getting an invitation to her apartment, to her bed nearly that easily. They could talk over coffee at one of the nearby places. And if she liked what he had to say... Well, she'd give him a chance to talk.  
  
  
  
end Second Best 10: Silver Bells and Cockle Shells 


	11. Pretty Words

Author: Lucinda  
  
pairing: Willow/Spike  
  
eleventh in Second Best story-line.  
  
rating: PG 13, angst, heartache  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own anyone from the show Buffy the Vampire Slayer.  
  
Distribution: any lists that I send this to, WLS, QPC, Bite Me, Cat, Feen, Soulmates, WWW - anyone else please ask  
  
note: set in AU season 6.   
  
Spike didn't know quite how he should react as Willow led him towards the little coffee shop. It was wonderful that she was talking to him, even if it wasn't the way it had been. That she would listen at all... Or at least, he hoped that she would listen, that she would give him a chance. What if she didn't want to take him back, what if she had someone new, someone mortal?  
  
But she was wearing the coat that he'd given her. She had said that talking might be good. That had to be promising, right? Unless she was just hoping to make a clean break from him. He shook his head, trying to stop from thinking himself into circles. He had to keep a clear head, he had to get this right. After all, he was on his second chance now, a third would be too much to hope for.  
  
Entering the coffee house, she made her way to the counter, ordering herself something called Chai and getting him a cup of hot chocolate. With a glance and a flicker of what might have been a smile, she headed towards a small table. "You wanted to talk?"  
  
"I'm sorry." The words tumbled out. Wincing at the way she seemed to stiffen, he blundered on. "I know, that doesn't fix it. But I am sorry, more than I can put into words. It shouldn't have happened, should never have..."  
  
"But it did happen. More than once, from the looks of things." Her voice was low, uneven from pain. "You and her... it happened. It would have been easier, would have hurt less if it had been Drusilla."  
  
"Here I thought that you didn't care much for Dru." Spike looked at her, noticing the way her eyes seemed a bit sunken, the pallor of her skin. Had this been because of him? He felt a stab of guilt once more. "Or is it just that anyone..."  
  
Willow shrugged a little, her fingers wrapped firmly around the too hot mug. "Harmony would have been better."  
  
"Is there any way that I can make it up to you?" He slid his hand towards her, fingers half reaching towards her, uncertain if she'd swat him away.  
  
"Am I the one that you want, or is it just that you think I'm the one that you can have?" Bitterness laced her words, and her eyes were full of pain and doubt.  
  
"Willow..." He wanted to protest her words, to insist that he would never try to use her like that. But to her, hadn't he already done so? Hadn't he already betrayed her? Hadn't he earned her doubts? "It's not... It's not like that."  
  
"It felt just like that, Spike. Like I wasn't the one you wanted, just the person that you could have. Just sort of a place holder while you worked on getting someone better." Her words were low, but filled with pain.  
  
"She's not better. Granted, she's got stronger muscles, but that's not the measure of a person." He knew that things had looked too easy. She wasn't offering him forgiveness, she was offering him more rope to hang himself with. "It wasn't... she wasn't what I wanted anymore."  
  
Willow made a small noise, disbelieving. "It looked like you did."  
  
"What I wanted, once upon a time, was the Buffy from before. She was pretty, and sweet under that toughness, and she fought for her friends, for what she believed in. That's got a lot of appeal." He sipped at his cocoa, licking at the whipped cream that was now clinging to his lip. "She wasn't like that anymore. By the time that I realized how much she'd changed..."  
  
"By that time, you were already making with the naughty fun?" Willow arched one eyebrow, her eyes shimmering with tears. "You should have... I don't know, but I shouldn't have had to find out that there was a problem like that."  
  
"It wasn't that fun." He winced again, desperately hoping that the words hadn't really just left his mouth. But judging by Willow's look of stunned disbelief, he'd said it. "Damn me and my big mouth. I mean... Bloody hell, could I be making a bigger botch of this?"  
  
She made a noise, like some bizarre blend of snicker and sob, and closed her eyes. "I don't know, I haven't tried to stake you yet. That's supposed to be mostly a joke, by the way. It's just... I wasn't even sure why you were here at first, and I want to believe you, I really do, but it hurt so badly to see that, to see you and her. I couldn't understand how two people who were supposed to be close to me could hurt me so badly. And when I talked to her about it... She wasn't the Buffy that I'd met in high school. I guess... I guess I was afraid that you weren't the Spike that I'd gotten involved with anymore, that you were someone else now, her Spike."  
  
"I'm still the same idiot that you got involved with. Hopefully, I'm a bit wiser than I used to be, but I'm still…" He shook his head, and glanced at the mug, at his hand wrapped loosely around it. "Can I plead insanity for that mess?"  
  
One corner of her mouth twitched, as if she wanted to smile and wanted not to smile at the same time. "I'd believe it. But if you were insane then, and still the same Spike, are you still insane now? How could I be confident that it was a contained form of insanity that wouldn't be repeated?"  
  
"You go for the hard questions, don't you?" He sighed, and swirled his cocoa around gently, sipping at it to prevent it from spilling. "What would it take to convince you? To convince you to give me another chance?"  
  
For a very long time, she was silent, just sitting there, her eyes glancing from him to the rest of the room to her mug over and over. Finally, the words emerged, barely loud enough for him to hear them. "I don't know. I don't know if I'm brave enough to take that chance again, if I can believe you if you look at me and say that I'm the one that you want, that you wouldn't touch anyone else."  
  
Part of him wanted to scream in frustration or despair. Another part was trying to whisper that 'I don't know' wasn't the same as 'no, get out of my life'. And part of him had this weirdly guilty feeling at the mention of her fears, of her doubts. What emerged was a very weak sounding "oh. I guess that makes sense."  
  
"Spike? I…" She paused, licking her lips uncertainly, her eyes settling on him. "How did you find me?"  
  
Spike swallowed some cocoa, trying to think about how to answer that one. Should he mention the way that he'd just sat like a lump at her departure? The way that Xander had beat him up out of anger, how the idea to follow her had waited until several miserable drunken binges? "I… One day, I woke up and realized that I couldn't face things without you. And I didn't have to just take it like a lump, after all, I'm Spike, I'm William the Bloody. I can track you down like a man and grovel."  
  
There was a tiny giggle at that, and she sipped at her Chai, eyes intent on him. "But how did you find me? I deliberately went a long way from Sunnydale."  
  
"I… I started with a list of all those other colleges that you could have gone to. And I crossed out all of them in California." He sighed, and looked up at her, meeting her eyes. She looked so… intent, as if his answer would have some sort of deep meaning and impact. "The I started checking in each town, looking for a beautiful redhead with a broken heart. But you weren't there, and I ended up here."  
  
"Ohhh." It wasn't so much a word as a sound made by the air escaping her. It didn't look as if she'd quite expected that answer, and she glanced down, her hand raising to touch the edge of her coat sleeve. "That must have been a lot of effort. So much time, and traveling all over the country."  
  
"I had to find you. I had to try to make things right again, to have you back in my life." He whispered, his hand slowly reaching out, lightly resting over hers. "Please?"  
  
"You want us to try again. To try being an us again." She took a deep breath, as if trying to calm herself. "To fix things. But Spike, some things can't just be fixed. What if this is one of them? What if… what if I can't trust you again, if I can't believe what you tell me?"  
  
"Do you want to try?" He looked at her, wondering if she could see in his eyes how important she was to him, how desperately he wanted her to say 'yes'. He silently offered her anything, everything, if she'd just give him another chance.  
  
"I think…" She paused, one hand resting under his, the other still clutching her mug. "I think if I don't let you try, I'll spend the rest of my life wondering. But if you break my heart again, I don't think I could survive it, Spike."  
  
He smiled, mentally thanking every beneficial, neutral or remotely concerned with love deity and demi-deity that he'd ever heard of. He vowed that this time, he wouldn't screw things up. This time, he'd get things right. "Thank you, Willow. Thank you for being willing to give me a second chance."  
  
"I just hope… She bit at her lip, her eyes not quite meeting his, but still on him. "I hope this one goes better."  
  
"So do I, love." Spike rubbed over the back of her hand, feeling as if he's just accomplished something huge and wonderful. "So do I."   
  
end Second Best 11: Pretty Words. 


	12. One Step Forward

Author: Lucinda

pairing: Willow/Spike

twelth in Second Best story-line.

rating: PG 13, angst, heartache

Disclaimer: I do not own anyone from the show Buffy the Vampire Slayer.

Distribution: any lists that I send this to, WLS, QPC, Bite Me, Cat, Feen, Soulmates, WWW - anyone else please ask

note: set in AU season 6.

--------

Willow couldn't settle into a single mood. Either she was feeling ecstatic that Spike had gone to all the effort and time of finding her, and hopeful that they could rebuild things, to tangled knots of fear that it was just a game, to despair that he was settling, to dread that things wouldn't work out. It would have been easier to figure out what to do if she could stay in any single emotional state. Spike was here, wanted to be back in her life. Probably a lot more than just 'in her life', if she were to be honest.

Willow was still trying to figure out if things could work. If she could be around him without seeing him and Buffy, without feeling that she was the second choice. If they could rebuild something, even if only the friendship that had helped her through Tara. The one thing that she was certain was that she would be trying to find out. The idea of sending him away... Well, Spike probably wouldn't go if he really cared, or at least not for long. And if he just nodded and left, indicating that he hadn't really cared at all... No. That would be too horrible. But if he stayed, if she let him back in and he cheated again, if he shattered the fragile remnants of her heart again...

Well, Anya was always saying that vengeance helped the healing process. And if a second betrayal left her too devastated to deal with happy people everywhere, D'Hoffryn's offer might still be open. She could probably make a frightful vengeance demon if Spike betrayed her again. After he was a cinder and whatever miserable tramp that he'd been with was... No. She didn't want to dwell on ways to destroy a hypothetical cheating woman who should never exist. At that rate, she might as well go back to Sunnydale and blow Buffy back into the afterlife. Would the afterlife be as enjoyable on the return tour? No. No thinking about Buffy either.

She was going to plan for a hopeful future, one with joy and smiles instead of pain and betrayal. She'd admitted that she wanted to try again. But how to start over? She couldn't just undo the past five years, or go back to last fall and leave Buffy dead. How could they start over?

Wait... Maybe she couldn't undo the past few years, or the past few months, but maybe they could start over in a different way. They could see movies together, and go for walks talking about everything and nothing. Maybe catch a couple concerts, or a play. They could do all of the friends that might become more things that they'd done at the beginning, before they'd quite been willing to admit that they'd gone from friends to a couple. If he could be her friend again, if she could trust him that far, then... maybe there would be hope for more?

Willow turned the idea over in her mind, trying to figure out if there were any gaping flaws, and failings of logic. Considering the past, he might have an advantage in knowing how she'd react, but would her own memories of him give her a similar insight to him? How much of the Spike that she'd known was real, and how much was simply what he'd wanted her to see? Would he try to… yes, he probably would try to use the time to convince her to let him back in. Part of her was actually hoping for that, and part of her was afraid. Afraid that he just wanted somebody, and that she was convenient, that she already knew his secrets, and he had nothing more to fear.

She hated the way these doubts kept after her, nagging and prickling, leaving her unhappy, worried and miserable. Willow wanted to believe him, wanted to think that he loved her, that he'd just made a mistake, that it would never happen again. But she didn't want another broken heart. She'd tried the logical method, making lists of the reasons 'for' and 'against' taking him back, but that really hadn't helped. And how do you measure 'kisses make my toes curl and tummy tingly' against 'I shattered inside at sight of Them'? She would have to see if he could regain her trust.

Friday night found her outside, sitting by the campus pond. She could see the stars reflected in the water. They looked so serene, so calm. It was almost easy to understand how ancient people could think they controlled everything. She could remember when she was a little girl, sitting on the balcony of her room, trying to identify all of the constellations. She could remember how the Jenner's big tree had always cut the Little Bear in half.

"Should I worry about you looking at the stars?" Spike's voice was low, and there was a faint sound as he settled beside her on the grass.

"I used to try to find the constellations, before. Back in Sunnydale, when I was…oh, I think I was seven. My dad and I would sit on the balcony, and he'd point them out. There's Cassiopaia, and Orion. Over there is the Big Bear, and the Little Bear. Our neighbor had a tree, and I could never see all of the Little Bear from the house." Willow pointed out the stars as she identified them.

"Stargazing in Sunnydale? Not very safe." He pulled out a cigarette, his feet shuffling. He could have been trying to find a comfortable position, or just feeling fidgety.

"I know that now. I didn't then. When I was seven, I believed my father when he said there were no monsters in the darkness." Willow glanced over at Spike, noticing the way that he was playing with his lighter – flicking the flame on, twisting it sideways and snapping the lid closed with a flick of his wrist. "It's probably a small miracle that nothing ate us."

"Yeah. There are a lot of demons though… they don't care too much for kids. Not enough hormones for some, others…well…" He shifted his position, leaning his elbow on his knee as he glanced at her, not quite looking into her eyes. "Some compare kids to veal – more tender, and the flavor's different."

"Veal…" Willow blinked, part of her unsurprised, and another part horrified. "Did you… I mean… before, when you didn't have…"

"No. Not kids." Spike murmured, now staring at his boot. "I enjoyed a bit of struggle, and you just… it's not the same. I never quite got the appeal of eating kids."

He paused again, lighting the cigarette, taking a deep breath, and then exhaling, almost like a dragon breathing smoke. "Darla said it made me soft, not going after the kiddies. So, I had to try to prove that I wasn't. I… that's when the railroad spikes came in."

"Oh." Willow wasn't quite certain how to react to this. It seemed so personal, as if… Actually, it probably was comparable to her talking about pointing out constellations with her dad. "Did they ever… Were you ever… I don't know how to put it without sounding judgmental."

"Out with it, Red." He touched her knee, the nail polish almost entirely chipped away. "I never had trouble before figuring out if you were trying to be critical."

"Was it ever enough for them? Did they ever think that you'd done enough, accomplished enough to belong? To measure up to what they wanted in a childe?" She was looking at him now, watching the moonlight turn his flesh to porcelain, and his hair to a tousled mass of ivory.

"You asking if I could measure up, or if you could?" There was something, not quite bitterness, not quite understanding in his voice.

"Both. No, you might have a better idea if you were enough for them than I do." Willow sighed, curling up and half wrapping around her own upraised knee.

"For Darla… I measured up the night I killed my first Slayer. For Angelus… He'd got his soul back by then, and nothing was good enough anymore, or bad enough. Nothing made him happy. Not the Slayer, not Darla, not being together again. For Dru… some nights I was enough, and some nights only her daddy would do, and I wasn't... could never be him." He sighed, head hanging lower. "Sorry. I never should have… damn it, I know how it feels to be… to not be the one in the person who's everything to you's arms."

"And yet…" Willow' mind wanted to turn screaming back to Spike and Buffy, and she shuddered. "No. We're not going to talk about that tonight. Nothing about blonde Slayers."

"Right." He sighed, unnecessary in someone who didn't breathe. But Spike had always shown so many living habits – food, alcohol, boredom, soap operas… "I never met whatever expectations Angelus or Angel had for me. Then again, they kept changing. For Darla… yeah, after I killed the Slayer. Parted company with her shortly after that, so I don't know how she'd think of the later years. But it didn't… It didn't feel like it was enough."

"I wasn't enough for my parents either." The whisper was barely loud enough for Willow to hear, even though the words slipped from her own lips. "My grades weren't good enough, didn't have enough activities, too many injuries… They didn't even come to graduation, which turned out to be safer but…"

"They were idiots." His arm slid around her shoulders, and he pulled her closer, as if he wanted to shelter her from the world. "You're smart enough to do anything, and as for after school activities… what about saving the bloody world?"

"Like I could tell them about that." Willow snorted, feeling her muscles relax a bit as he leaned into Spike. "They'd have to be there, and to actually listen. I tried to tell them once, about the magic, about having a boyfriend. Mom tried to burn me at the stake. All she could remember the next day was something about me dating a musician."

"I'll listen to you. Any time, about anything." Spike stroked her cheek, and leaned his head closer, smelling her hair.

"I miss that. Having someone to listen to anything, I mean." Willow sighed, and leaned her head back, looking up at his face. "I think… I want us to try to start back at…well, not our beginning, but where a lot of people start. Movies, walking together. Spending time, rebuilding a friendship."

"I'd like to be more than your friend, Red." His words were soft, longing.

"I know." She reached out, her fingers hovering over his eyebrow, uncertainty fluttering inside of her. "But anything more… That takes trust. You broke it before, when... Before. So, I've put a lot of thought into this. Hours of near ulcer inducing thought. If there's any chance to get back the way things were, I have to know that I can trust you again. The best way is to remember why I trusted you then, to rebuild our friendship. We were friends before we became lovers, and that was part of the reason why it happened."

"Patience isn't my strong point." He traced the outline of her lip with his finger, and rested his forehead against hers. "Never has been."

"The only way that things will be good again is if my heart can trust you. That… you can't just decide to trust or distrust someone. Is what we had, what we could try for again worth taking that much time?"

"You're worth it." His words were full of emotions, hope, insistence, pleading, impatience…

"Then I need a way to get in touch with you. A phone number, an address… something." Willow could feel herself smiling. "Otherwise, how can I ask you if you'd like to hang out?"

"Well…." Spike hesitated for a moment, his eyes getting a distant, almost unfocused look. "It's not the best place. Then again, it's actually a motel room, so that probably puts it over the crypt. Got something that I can write on?"

As he scrawled a number and the motel name on a page, Willow jotted down her own number, thinking that this was actually far closer to the way most people started dating than anything that she'd ever tried before. "Exchanging phone numbers… This really is like starting something new."

Spike chuckled. "This is actually the first time that I've tried something like this. Exchanging phone numbers… We never did that in Sunnydale."

"You didn't have a phone at first. Then you were with Giles, and then… you were with me." Willow shrugged, and glanced at her toes, feeling nervous and uncertain. Part of her was screaming that this was a bad idea, that he'd only let her down again, hurt her again. Another part was already imagining them walking in the moonlight, holding hands and kissing.

"Willow? Promise me something?" Spike sounded serious, and his fingers were resting on the back of her hand.

"What?" She looked at him, her mind trying to figure out what he could be thinking.

"Promise me that you won't leave me chained up in someone's bathtub again?" He had pleading note in his voice as he made the request.

Willow started giggling. "I think I can manage to avoid doing that again. But it wasn't my idea back in Sunnydale."

"Good." He smiled, and moved to his feet in a casual graceful flow. Holding one hand out in an offer to lift her to her feet, he spoke. "Can I walk you back to your place?"

For a moment, Willow considered his question. With a smile, she let him help her up, and savored the feeling of his hand around hers. "I guess you can do that."

They walked to her apartment in silence. She kept stealing little glances at him, and was pretty certain that he was glancing right back. He hadn't quite let go of her hand, though his grip had loosened and shifted. It reminded Willow of the times before, when she and Spike would go on patrol together, just spending time.

Eventually, they came to the steps of the building, and he reached out, brushing his fingers over her cheekbone. "I'll be waiting to hear from you, and I just might call you."

She watched as the night swallowed him up, and only then turned to walk inside. This was going to be easier and harder than she'd thought.

End One Step Forward.


	13. Reaching Towards Her

Author: Lucinda

pairing: Willow/Spike

tirteenth in Second Best story-line.

rating: PG 13, angst, heartache

Disclaimer: I do not own anyone from the show Buffy the Vampire Slayer.

Distribution: any lists that I send this to, WLS, Bite Me, Cat, Feen, Soulmates, WWW - anyone else please ask

note: set in AU season 6. :words in colons: are the other side of a phone call.

Spike leaned back on the bed, hands behind his head as he waited impatiently for sunset. He should be grateful, he knew. He should be on his knees thanking all manner of things that she'd even been willing to give him a chance, even if it wasn't quite as much as he'd hoped. She was willing to let them try to rebuild a friendship.

But he wanted more from her. He wanted to watch her face as they found pleasure with each other. He wanted to see that little smile as her thoughts twisted into some unexpected delight. The way she'd look for the bright side, no matter how dark things looked. He wanted to see her watching some weird show, dressed only in a pair of underwear and one of his shirts.

Honestly, he didn't even deserve her being willing to take the time to stake him. Not after the way he'd betrayed her, with Buffy.

He chuckled, the sound lacking in humor. He'd been a vampire for a long time before he'd gone to Sunnydale, and killed uncounted people, shattered lives and hearts and hopes for decades. He'd been a bad, bad man, and he'd reveled in it. He hadn't deserved her the first time around.

There were times that it was a damned good thing life wasn't always fair.

Willow had said it would take time to see if she could trust him again. She'd said she wanted to find out if she could trust him again, if they could get back some of what they'd had before. She'd given him a place to start.

Sitting up, he grabbed his coat, and started digging in the pockets. Objects tumbled to the floor - keys, books of matches from dozens of places she hadn't been, half emptied packs of ciggaretes, a broken pair of handcuffs, his lighter, gas recepts, and finally, the slightly crumpled paper that carried her phone number. He smiled, gently trying to smooth away the wrinkles. It still carried a hint of her scent, and just the sight of her familiar handwriting made him feel a bit warmer inside.

For several long moments, he stared at it. He could call her, hear her voice, talk to her. Maybe they could... What? What should he say? Dinner was tricky, he had no idea what sort of local entertainments the area had...

Memories danced, and he smiled as he remembered staring at the University's bullitan board. The drama club was presenting something, there were poetry readings, and that lecture on the historical context of collonization. There should be something in that batch that would appeal to her, and then they could go, he could spend some time with her. The public location would be frustrating, but she might be more willing to do something public than a nice, secluded walk in the moonlight.

It was hard to pick up the phone. Not because of any physical reason, it was just a bit of cheap plastic and wiring, but emotionally, it was hard. He was risking rejection, disbelief. Coming from Willow, those would hurt. He dialed the number, vowing that nobody would ever know how much his fingers shook, how his throat had felt tight with nervous anticipation.

If he'd breathed, he would have held his breath as it rang, waiting, hoping that she'd be there, that she'd pick up. There was a click, and he heard the soft sounds of her voice, but it was a recording. "Hi, you're reached Willow, but I can't answer the phone right now. If you leave a message, your name and a number, I'll get back to you."

Closing his eyes, he put one cold finger on the phone, breaking the connection. An answering machine. Was she in class? Taking a shower, with the water cascading over her naked body? Out laughing and smiling in the sunshine with friends? Or was she curled up in a chair, feeling miserable and just ignoring the phone?

"I should have left a message." He murmured.

It was almost an hour before he managed to get the courage back up to call. An hour while he flipped through the meager assortment of television channels, trying to convince himself that he was still the Big Bad, that he was fearless. An hour while he tried to tell himself that things would work out, that they had to work out.

The phone rang, and he reminded himself to talk this time, even if it was the machine again.

:Hello: Willow's voice, not the recorded version from her machine. She sounded tired, hesitant.

"Red?" He smiled, glad to hear her voice. "This... It's Spike. I thought maybe we could do something?"

:Anything in particular: In the background, there was a thumping noise. :I wasn't sure if you'd call.:

"I had some ideas. A couple things on the board at your school caught my attention, I thought maybe some of them might appeal? Or if there's a movie you wanted, that would work too." His fingers were tracing over her telephone number, and he tried to picture her. Was she standing, draped in a chair, sitting on the floor?

For a few moments, she was quiet, only the soft sound of her breathing coming over the line. "There's supposed to be a reading of some poetry. I know some of the people, Shel's in my history class. Maybe... We could go to that:

"Anything you want." He assured, part of him wanting to tell her that he liked the idea of the poetry, and another part uncertain if he could reveal something so deep, so close to the William that he'd been before. But if he couldn't tell Willow... Wasn't that in the nature of trust? Being able to tell your deepest secrets?

:Okay then. Why don't you meet me here, outside the apartment building at seven? The sun will be down by then, and we can go together.: Papers rustled, as if she was searching for something.

"I'll be there." He promised, feeling a lump in his throat. He wasn't sure where it had come from, or if he wanted to admit that it was even there. Poetry with Willow. Yes, there was hope. Now he just had to hope that he didn't ruin things before they even mended.

end Second Best 13: Reaching Towards Her.


	14. Poetry Inside

Author: Lucinda

pairing: Willow/Spike

fourteenth in Second Best story-line.

Emotional content – nothing higher than the series.

Disclaimer: I do not own anyone from the show Buffy the Vampire Slayer.

Distribution: any lists that I send this to, WLS, Bite Me, Cat, Feen,

Soulmates, WWW - anyone else please ask

note: set in AU season 6. Many thanks to Gabrielle for her encouragement and for the beta-reading.

Willow stared into her closet, feeling an unfamiliar nervousness. She had a date with Spike tonight. She could try to tell herself that they were just going to listen to some poetry, that they were just trying to be friends, but it was still a date. What should she wear for this? What did you wear to go listen to poetry with the guy who'd broken your heart, but who you still loved?

It was too bad that she didn't have anyone to ask for advice. But who could she explain the whole mess to? The parts about vampires, and no-longer-dead-ex-best-friends and, well...and Sunnydale. Willow shuddered at the image of trying to explain those things to someone else. Maybe she should just try to figure out what she wanted her wardrobe to say, and then see if she had something to manage it?

This whole dating-wardrobe mess was hard. Her hand settled over a fuzzy pink sweater, and she smiled. It had been the one that she'd been wearing all those years ago, when he'd kidnapped her and Xander and locked them in the old factory. It still looked good on her, and there were memories. He'd said that she looked lovely in that sweater, good enough to eat. That settled things enough for her to figure out the rest. Something casual, but not so insecure-teenagerish as the original outfit. Grabbing a pair of jeans and using a wisp of magic to drag out a pair of purple sneakers, she smiled. Outfit planned, her hair would just have to do, although maybe a little spray to keep it under control…

She was nervous. What if this went badly, and he hated the poetry? What if it went wonderfully, and she wanted to throw herself back into his arms, as if the whole nightmare had never happened? Shaking her head, she changed her clothing, expecting that the evening would probably fall somewhere in between.

She fussed with her hair, and debated makeup, wanting to look beautiful. Then, she frowned, and pushed the makeup away, not wanting Spike to think that she was desperate to win him back. Willow sighed, and tried to calm her nerves. Things would unfold however they would, regardless of how nervous or calm she was, or how she dressed.

Trying to think hopeful thoughts, she made her way to the front of the building to wait on the steps for Spike. Settling on the low wall beside the stairs, she sighed. This vulnerable waiting felt miserable, and she really hoped that he didn't keep her waiting too long, or stand her up.

"You look smashing, luv." Spike's voice was the most wonderful sound that Willow had heard in a long time.

She turned to look at him, surprised that he had abandoned his usual look for a pair of faded blue jeans and a shirt in soft gray, bearing letters and an unfamiliar flag that had a distinctly sportish cast. The shirt looked vaguely familiar, though she couldn't quite place it. "I'm glad to see you too."

"Ready to go listen to poetry?" He held one hand out to her, offering to help her down from the wall, even if she didn't really need that much help.

"I guess so." She let him help her down from the wall, the gesture hinting at the gentleman that he'd once admitted to having been, long ago when he was mortal. He'd also mumbled something about not being a very good gentleman, though he'd refused to elaborate. With a little grin, Willow admitted, "I know I've seen that flag on your shirt before, and I'm trying to place it."

"Manchester United" He chuckled, and his hand slid along hers until their fingers could entwine, and he slid his between hers. "As I've been saying for years, it's a much better sport than that pathetic game you Americans call football."

She giggled, and shook her head. "Well, I never quite got the appeal of football either, so I can't explain it to you."

They spoke of simple things, ordinary things that they could have talked about if they'd been normal people with normal lives instead of a witch born and raised on a Hellmouth and a vampire who'd lived for over a century. Willow felt better as she led him to the small almost-club for the poetry reading. They took a seat, and Willow absently picked up one of the slender menus, opening it to look inside. "They've got onion blossoms here, but I have no idea if they're any good or not. I normally stick to the breadsticks."

"I might as well find out." He offered her a small smile as his hand shuffled the salt and pepper shakers around. "So, what can I expect from tonight?"

Willow blinked as it dawned on her that Spike was actually nervous. He was nervous, just like she was, and that made her feel much better. "Well, I guess we find out how good the onion blooms are as we listen to a couple of hours of aspiring poets. I'm not sure how good or bad they might be, but we'll find out. Maybe go for a little walk outside, around part of the campus afterwards, if you don't want to rush away."

"I wouldn't want to rush away from you, Willow." The soft words were almost drowned out by the background noise.

Willow smiled, reaching out to let her fingers brush against his. She wanted to believe him, wanted to be able to trust him again.

The waitress came over, someone that Willow vaguely remembered seeing at the building where she had her math class, and they placed their orders, coffee for Willow, cocoa for Spike, and an onion bloom to split. As it turned out, the onion wasn't bad, though it wasn't remarkably good either, and the poetry ranged from not too bad to good to weird.

Willow realized that Spike was watching her more than the poets, and it gave her a fluttery, happy feeling, as well as making her blush a little. When the readings ended, she stood up, leaving some money on the table for the food, and started towards the door, Spike once again holding her hand. It seemed almost like a pleasant blur as they walked outside into the cool night air.

They'd walked for a while, just quietly being together, before he spoke. "I used to write poetry, before. When I was a young man living in London."

Willow looked at him in surprise. She hadn't expected the confession, and didn't quite understand why he seemed like he wasn't sure he wanted to say it. "Really? Did you have anything published?"

"No, I never got published." His fingers tightened a bit on hers, the grip just shy of painful. "Truth is… I wasn't very good."

"You weren't?" Willow blinked, and put her hand on his cheek, looking into his eyes. "I can't quite see you doing badly at something that you put your mind to."

"I can make a right mess of things sometimes." His voice was soft, and he lowered his head, until they were almost touching. "I want to do better here, this time."

Willow moved, wrapping her arm around him and just leaning against him. "I hope so. Maybe someday you can be one of the hopeful poets up there?"

"Ehhh, don't count on it, luv. They were the real reason that I first came to be William the Bloody – it was short for William the Bloody Awful Poet." He sounded distinctly nervous.

"Then maybe you'll just be willing to let me see? If you ever write anything new, that is." Her voice was soft, and she wasn't certain how he'd react. He'd said once that he'd changed a lot since he was human, maybe he wouldn't want to let her know anything about the man that he'd been. Only the vampire that he'd become. Would he understand that it wasn't just a request to see the poetry, but an invitation for him to stick around, to stay in her life?

For a moment, he was silent, his body suddenly tense. His fingers slowly found her chin, and tilted her head so that he could look into her eyes. "Maybe. If I ever write anything. I think… maybe you'd understand that sometimes, it's the effort, not how well you actually succeed."

Willow smiled, and leaning against him and letting herself hope. "Sometimes all we can do is try."

"All of me, this time." He whispered, arms holding tight around her. "All of me, and all of you. No more holding back, no more thinking that you couldn't understand."

"I want to know you, the good and the bad both." Willow insisted, her stomach feeling quivery and tense. "Nobody's perfect, and since I know I'm not, why should I expect you to be?"

"Maybe it's the balance of light and darkness inside that makes us more interesting." Spike murmured, contentedly holding her. "You're all fire and shadow, Willow."

"Marble and shadow and moonlight." Willow murmured, enjoying his embrace. Maybe this would work out after all.

End Second Best 14: Poetry Inside.


	15. Shadowed Souls

Author: Lucinda

pairing: Willow/Spike

fifteenth in Second Best story-line.

Emotional content – nothing higher than the series.

Disclaimer: I do not own anyone from the show Buffy the Vampire Slayer.

Distribution: any lists that I send this to, WLS, Bite Me, Cat, Feen,

Soulmates, WWW - anyone else please ask

note: set in AU season 6. Many thanks to Gabrielle for her encouragement and for the beta-reading.

-- -- -- --

Spike walked away from Willow's apartment building. Or maybe it was some sort of dormitory, he wasn't certain, and it didn't really matter that much. They'd gone to listen to poetry, and he'd had the chance to hold her in his arms again, to feel her, all warm and snuggled right up against him. She still fit perfectly in his arms.

Part of him wanted to cringe that he'd admitted the poetry to her. That he'd written poetry, that it had been bad poetry. He'd revealed part of the man he'd once been and the weakness that had plagued William. Everyone else had used that against him.

He hoped that with Willow, things would be different. He knew that she was different, but could she accept the man that he had once been? Could he hold his fears back long enough to let her see the William that he'd been?

He stopped, blinking at the stars as he realized that there were only two possible futures for him. If he couldn't show Willow that he trusted her, make her believe that they had a future, he would have nothing but memories and rejection. For her to let him back into her life the way things had been, she needed to trust him again. If he couldn't trust her, he would lose her. She'd agreed to give him a second chance; there wouldn't be a third.

He'd been afraid. Afraid to let her know how weak his mortal self had been. Afraid to let her know just how much darkness seethed within the vampire that he'd become, and just as afraid to let her see how much of the man remained. To make a bad thing worse, he'd let his fascination with the Slayer draw him away from Willow, and he'd let himself get so caught up in what he'd once wanted that he hadn't thought about what he had.

There was darkness in Willow. She wasn't just fire and energy and enthusiasm, there was darkness, fear, anger, and potential. If he'd even once thought about the matter, he would have realized that long ago. The bloody head of Vengeance demons had tried to recruit her. He'd nearly turned her once, possibly twice; the whole mess at the factory was still a bit fuzzy. Another world's Willow had become a powerful vampire in a few years, a favorite of the Master, ugly pillock that he'd been. Oh yes, she had darkness to her.

He hadn't wanted to see it. Hadn't wanted to see if her darkness was a match for his own. He wasn't certain if he'd been trying to protect her from that darkness, or trying to hide from the potential depths of it. If Willow reached for her darkness, embraced it instead of keeping it hidden, like a shadow behind her fire, would she still be the woman that he'd fallen in love with? Or would embracing her darkness change her into someone he could barely even recognize?

The pink sweater that she'd worn tonight, all soft and fuzzy and begging for him to touch it, touch her… That had been the one she'd worn when he'd kidnapped her and Xander, years ago. It made him want to grab hold and just eat her up. It made her look so innocent, as if the darkness couldn't be that dark. It made him want to count her freckles, every fleck of blue in her green eyes, every streak of red in that almost brown hair. It made him start sorting words for poetry.

Yet still, he was a vampire. Blood and violence would always factor in his life, even if he wasn't hunting and killing anyone that he pleased anymore. Some pain was always a turn-on, as was blood. Had that been why he'd kept up his whatever the hell that had been with Buffy? Because he didn't think Willow would understand that he liked a bit of pain once in a while?

She'd been ready, willing, and able to lock up wolf-boy three nights a month. There was even a set of chains and manacles that she'd brokenly whispered had been 'for Oz' that had stayed in the Watcher's basement. Could she deal with that all over again, for him? Maybe he should try to find out. Of course, he'd have to be careful that she didn't think he was trying to push her into bed with him again.

That was the other thing that he'd need to remember. Give Willow the chance to grow and try new things, respect her ability to grow and change, instead of locking her into a single moment, the way that she was one particular night. With those thoughts dancing in his mind, Spike returned to his hotel room, and drifted into an uneasy slumber, filled with all sorts of images and fragments.

He decided to wait for her the next night, after her late class. One foot tapped impatiently as he held a cigarette, watching for her red hair or the green coat that he'd given her. So many people, but none of them were the right ones.

There she was, frowning and muttering to herself about someone being an obnoxious moron. Stepping towards her, he hoped she didn't mean him. "Evening, luv."

"Spike." She smiled, and moved to his side, one hand taking his and practically towing him away from the building.

"Did I miss something?" He felt a bit confused. Either she'd changed her mind about rebuilding trust, or there was something else going on.

"There's a guy in that class. Big, brown hair, not unattractive, used to getting any girl he wants. He thinks I look cute, and he's trying to talk me into going out with him, so he can try to get me into bed with him." Willow was practically spitting the words. "I've been telling him to get lost. I told him I wasn't interested. I told him I already had a guy in my life, and he accused me of making up excuses because I was too shy to go out with a real man."

"He what?" Spike growled, his face flickering for a moment.

"We're leaving before I set him on fire." Willow frowned again.

"Could you do that?" Spike blinked, feeling the power crackling beneath her skin. "Why don't you want to do that?"

"First, the Wiccan three-fold rule says that I shouldn't, and there's some hefty thou shalt not kill's in Judaism as well. Second, burning alive is a terribly painful way to go, too painful even for a creep like him. Third, it would stink. A lot." Willow scowled. "If we don't leave, I might do it anyhow, probably by accident."

Spike felt himself grinning. Oh yeah, there was some darkness in her. "Red… Willow, is there somewhere we can talk? Without being overheard?"

"Yeah, I think so. There's the old greenhouse, it's pretty deserted even in the daytime. Does this… Is this about Sunnydale-type stuff?" she asked.

"Some. That and relationships." He dropped the cigarette, following her behind a long row of trees and into an old greenhouse. The glass had turned milky and cracked in several places. Inside were plants, and more flowers and herbs than he could name.

Willow let go of his hand, relaxing as she looked at the plants. "It's different at night, like a place full of secrets. Is this… is this a warning of danger, or something else?"

"Not so much a 'danger ahead' thing as…" Spike leaned against a table, careful not to knock the plants off. "How much did you read about vampire sexuality and sexual behavior back in Sunnydale?"

"Whoa. Quite the conversation opener. I wasn't expecting that." Her cheeks turned pink, and she started to study her fingers in careful detail. "I only looked in a few books, and there wasn't a whole lot about the sexual relationships of vampires. They were either about mortals killed painfully or… Well, there was a lot about sexual dominance as a control mechanism. The guy who wrote that stuff sounded like he had a career as an abnormal psych professor…"

"Both happen." He looked at her, noting her curiosity. "The abnormal psych thing might not be too far off. Vamps… even those of us who aren't all grr and bitey, we're not human anymore. We react differently to some things."

"Whips and chains, right?" Willow looked up, her expression hinting that something was finally making sense. "She kept going on about whips, chains and blood."

"Who did?" He leaned forward, curious. What vampire had been talking to his Willow? Or had it been Anya?

"Vamp me. The vampire Willow… you were out of town then, I think. Chasing

Drusilla." Willow was blushing again, but glanced up to meet his eyes. "She was very different from the way I was that year. She kept talking about her world, and how it was more fun. She went on about her Puppy, and how she played her games with him, and how he loved and hated them at the same time."

"I didn't know there were conversations with her." Spike commented, trying not to ask what Willow had thought about those words. "Most vampires aren't much for puppies and kittens."

"He wasn't that sort of puppy." Willow looked away. "He was another vampire. The Master gave Puppy to her as a present because he'd made the Master very unhappy. She told us some of the things they did."

"What about you?" Spike wondered. "Were you listening?"

"Horrified fascination. That was actually rather educational, even though it was about the sort of things that I'd never expected to learn about. Bondage. Torture as foreplay. Uses of candles and holy water and matches." Willow shook her head, looking at a small green plant. "I'm still not sure if she was mentally unbalanced or just wanted to keep everyone else unsure of how to react to her. Buffy was in complete shock, and I think she repressed it all, considering who Puppy used to be."

"Who was her Puppy?" Spike could feel the nervousness as a knot in his stomach, and he didn't like it. He wasn't going to ask if she'd thought about the things the other Willow had suggested, he knew her mind too well. Of course she'd thought about them. But had she been curious, or repulsed?

"Puppy used to be Angel." Willow shook her head, and gave a half smile. "Nobody wanted to bring those conversations up again. Ever."

"I can see why not," he growled, the very thought of Willow and any version of Angel enough to make his blood boil with jealousy.

"Was she right?"

The soft question startled him, and he blinked, slowly emerging from his jealous haze. "Hmm? Who right about what?"

"Was it a vampire thing, or just a Vamp Willow thing?" Willow was watching him intently, prepared to read his face and posture for more than what his words would give.

"Most vampires play a bit rough once in a while. It doesn't have to be all the time." He shrugged, trying to play things casual, trying to bottle up the hope that maybe she wouldn't be repulsed by his darkness. "Of course, I think Angel likes the suffering part, it goes with the guilt."

"And you never thought to tell me anything about that." She turned away, stepping slowly down the path. Away from him. "You wanted, maybe even needed something, and instead of asking me, you went to Buffy. Because she would make you hurt, make you bruise and bleed. You didn't trust me enough, or maybe you just didn't want me enough."

Panic flared inside him, and he moved, reaching out to touch her shoulder.

"Willow, don't walk away like that. I didn't tell you… I should have. Damn, but I know that I should have."

"Why didn't you?" Tears glimmered in her eyes, and she looked at him, her face set as if to ward away disappointment.

"I…" He didn't want to admit it. Looking at her, he knew that if he didn't, she'd be gone. "I was afraid. Afraid to show you that, afraid that you'd remember that I'm a monster, and wouldn't want me anymore. Or maybe showing you that part, the darker side of passion, maybe that would take away some of what makes you so bright. Dim your fire."

One hand reached out, trembling until she cupped it around his cheek.

"Asking me to try something different won't dim my fire. Cheating on me…

Much worse."

"Did I already mention that it was one of the stupidest things I've ever done, I know I was an idiot, and I'm sorry?" He whispered, leaning into her hand.

"Some things it's good to say more than once." She had a tiny smile.

"I love you. I'm sorry that I hurt you. I was stupid, blind, and deserved to be slashed open and thrown into a pit of salty lemon juice." He watched as she fought not to smile. "I'm sorry, luv. Is there… Can we… Oh, bloody hell, I can't say the words."

"Do we still have a chance? Yeah." She smiled, and leaned closer, letting her head rest against his shoulder. "I was never the one afraid to try new things in a relationship. With someone that I trusted, I might try almost anything once."

For a moment, he couldn't breathe, and he just wrapped his arms around her, never wanting to let go. Willow was in his arms, and she's just said… Spike sighed, reminding himself that she'd said they had a chance. Not that she trusted him completely, break out the handcuffs, blindfolds, and find a bed. Nothing about specific toys. A chance, and that she was willing to try new things.

"Good to know, Willow." He whispered the words, knowing that he had to win her back. His existence would be dark and empty without her.

End SB15: Shadowed Souls.


	16. Love Makes You Crazy

Author: Lucinda

pairing: Willow/Spike

sixteenth in Second Best story-line.

y-14, for emotional content; nothing higher than the series.

Disclaimer: I do not own anyone from the show Buffy the Vampire Slayer.

Distribution: any lists that I send this to, WLS, Bite Me, Cat, Feen, Soulmates, WWW - anyone else please ask

note: set in AU season 6. Many thanks to Gabrielle for her encouragement and for the beta-reading.

-*-

Willow had a great many things going through her mind that night, preventing her from slipping peacefully into slumber. There were the usual ugly memories and concerns about classes – did she get the fourth question right on her Philosophy quiz? Had they been supposed to read the fourteenth chapter, or the fourteenth and fifteenth? The new biology teacher couldn't really turn her head around like that guy with the green streaked hair had said, could she? Like Ms. French back in Sunnydale? There was the tangle of emotions that came up each time she thought about Spike, love, hope, pain, lust, worry…

Now she had a few more things to consider. Vampire sex habits, when they weren't trying to play mind games with someone else. Fragments of her conversations with her vampire alternate, and the things she'd said about whips, chains, and blood. Wisps of imagining of her and Spike doing some of those things. Would they be fun? Interesting but not something to do all the time? Horribly painful? Another way for him to break her heart?

"I have too many thoughts," she whispered into the darkness of her room. "The only reason to go back to these thoughts is to sort out what to do about them. Not to give myself a headache."

It didn't help.

The quiz was over, either she got the question right or she hadn't, and no amount of worrying would change her answers now. Just to be sure, she decided to read chapters fourteen and fifteen. She couldn't do anything about the biology teacher tonight, but tomorrow she could try to get or make a tape of bat sonar, which would reveal if there was another giant bug impersonating a teacher. Which left only the questions concerning Spike…

She knew that she would give him a chance, a chance to win her back, to make her trust him again. What ifs and regrets would drive her mad otherwise. No matter how horrible it had been to see him and Buffy, she hadn't been able to stop caring, stop remembering how happy she'd been. Willow doubted that it was a wise choice, but love wasn't about wisdom, it was about feelings and passion and need. Spike was passion.

Willow tried not to think about what might happen if he broke her heart again. She didn't know how, but she was sure that she'd kill him. Even if it killed her to do it… or maybe especially if it killed her.

Trying to think happier thoughts, she opened her textbook, curling up in the chair with the little toy cat that Spike had sent her. As she read, her treacherous mind brought up images of researching at Giles' apartment, leaning against Spike as they searched for demons or to identify strange talismans and symbols. Walking in the moonlight along the beach.

Eventually, Willow put the book back on the table and slipped into bed. She'd need to reread the chapters, other than a vague feeling that she'd looked over the words, none of it had stuck. Slumber pulled her down, and she dreamed of beaches, vampires and demons dancing around a bonfire. There had also been demons with German beer steins toasting someone called Dru'ach and the First Slayer had been lurking, down the beach when Willow had been walking, at the shadows just beyond the demons' bonfire, at the end of the bar where demons toasted. Most oddly, she had looked right at Willow and spoke in Giles' voice, saying 'the Slayer is fallen, long fight the Slayer.' Her night was nowhere near restful.

In the morning, she sent off an email to Wesley in Los Angeles. They hadn't exactly been friends, but they'd started emailing occasionally when the former Watcher had joined up with Angel and Cordelia in LA. She didn't give details, but after her general hello's and how is everyone's, she'd mentioned seeing the First Slayer in a dream, and that she'd said something odd. Willow had followed that with asking if they had any idea how Faith was, and if she was in good health. She sent a similar email to Xander, though it was a bit more detailed. She mentioned the First Slayer following her through a rather strange and disjointed dream, and something about 'the Slayer is fallen, long fight the Slayer.'

She wasn't certain what response she was hoping for. Faith or Buffy dead would call a new Slayer, maybe… did Buffy's death in the spring call a Slayer? Would the line only go though Faith now? She didn't have good memories of Faith. The good memories she'd had of Buffy had been tainted by what had happened right before she'd left. The whole thing being her own overwrought imagination wasn't comforting either.

The day dragged on with tedium. She had two hours of math, leaving her once again relieved that this was something simple enough that she didn't need to be at her best to handle. What bothered her the most was that she kept thinking that she saw demons out of the corners of her eyes. Part of her wondered if some of the other students might really be demons seeking higher education – she'd seen stranger things, after all. Another part wondered if it was just last night's strange dreams and the emotional stress working against her. There was nobody that she could talk to about it either – of the whole city, who besides Spike wouldn't decide she was crazy at 'I think I'm seeing demons…'?

She sat on one of the stone benches, watching other students moving past, on their way to and from classes, talking with friends, teasing, flirting… everything that normal people did. For a moment, the tall guy in the yellow hoodie looked like he had green scales and spines along his back. For a moment, the tanned girl in the little blue dress looked like a Cyclops with red skin. "Too much stress… that has to be it."

Willow looked over the people, not really focusing on any specific individual or place. She'd come to New Haven to start over, to make a new life. One away from Sunnydale, away from Slaying and demons and heartbreak. Away from Buffy. Before the cold Slayer injured her more severely, before the pain of what she'd seen had killed her inside. Before the pain had caused her to lose control over her magic… Had she really thought she could move away and never need to worry about demons and vampires again? Had she completely forgotten that they were all over, not just in Sunnydale?

Maybe she had. But those flickers… the moments where someone looked like a demon instead of human. Was it some sort of stress induced hallucination? Some aspiring bad trying something to bring about fear, hysteria and mayhem that couldn't be directly traced back to them? Her sanity failing her? For a moment, she wondered if maybe they really were demons, that her magic was strong enough for her to see through their disguises. Except that such thoughts were absurd – why would she be strong enough to do that? And even if she was, why would it only be from the corners of her eyes and not when she looked right at them? Why would it come and go? No, that wasn't a good enough explanation, it didn't fit all the pieces. Maybe she was just stressing far too much about Spike...

She was definitely stressing too much about Spike.

Frustrated and still questioning her sanity, Willow returned to her little apartment. Maybe she could find something to distract her, or at least she'd be a bit safer in her unfocused state. A blinking light announced that there were messages on her answering machine. Listening, she quickly deleted a sales pitch for life insurance, a wrong number looking for Jenny, a hang-up, another wrong number for Jenny, and an automated voice that had wanted her to please hold for a survey.

The phone rang, and Willow jumped. Trying to steady herself, she answered it, hoping not to sound flustered with her "Hello?"

:Hello, luv. I was wondering if you had any plans for this evening?: Spike's voice purred at her through the telephone.

"Not really," Willow admitted. "Did you have something in mind?"

:I remember there was that preview you were all excited about in the spring. Harry Potter and the next movie to cash in on Americans bloody well not wanting to read the book… The one with the great big snake. If you'd like, we could go see that movie.:

Willow could picture him smirking as he described the movie. She couldn't forget the way he mocked the laziness of people today, insulting the vast numbers of people who took advice on their reading lists from Bestseller lists and 'Oprah' sobbin' Winfrey' who doesn't think it's a real book unless you cry or someone famous wrote it. How he never wanted anyone to know that half of the fantasy books she owned – including all of the Harry Potter books –were books that he'd bought and read as much and sometimes more than she read them herself.

"I'd like that," she admitted. "Do you want to pick me up at the apartment, and we can go… umm, I can look up the show times, maybe get the tickets online?"

:Fair enough, you order them, I'll pay for them, and I promise not to run over anyone who doesn't deserve it. I can pick you up in an hour,: the laughter was in his voice.

"See you then," Willow whispered.

Wesley's email was unsurprising, they were all doing well enough out there, and nobody had heard anything about Faith. Xander hadn't replied yet. Various spam emails for things she didn't need, cheep meds from Canada, porn, all natural male enhancements, more porn, and the absurd claim that Microsoft would give her money if she forwarded this email to a zillion people. "If Microsoft were going to give me money, it would be because I took a job with them, like they offered a few years ago. I didn't, so they won't…"

She had a movie to arrange tickets for. Willow just hoped that this wouldn't turn out to be a mistake.

End SB16: Love Makes You Crazy.


	17. Facing the Future

Author: Lucinda

pairing: Willow/Spike

seventeenth in Second Best story-line.

y-14, for emotional content, possible swearing, possible violence, and moderate sexuality; nothing higher than the series.

Disclaimer: I do not own anyone from the show Buffy the Vampire Slayer.

Distribution: any lists that I send this to, WLS, Bite Me, Cat, Feen, Soulmates, WWW - anyone else please ask

note: set in AU season 6. Happy Birthday to Gabrielle.

-*-

Spike would love to claim that he wasn't nervous as he drove over to pick up Willow to catch the new Harry Potter movie. That he didn't keep swallowing because he felt like something was stuck in his throat, or his hands didn't have this irritating wobble when he held them out. That he hadn't gone through his wardrobe several times before settling on a pair of blue jeans and a faded shirt advertising an album by the Sex Pistols.

Of course, it would have been a lie.

He shouldn't have been as nervous. He knew that Willow found him attractive, and that she knew he was a vampire. That she'd seen him all grr. Bloody hell, they'd been in the midst of a relationship already.

A relationship that he'd destroyed.

He didn't want to repeat that part. The relationship, hell yes. The gory, gut-wrenching loss at the end of it when she walked away from him? No. Which meant that he'd best get things right, keep them right. And that brought him back to the fact that he was nervous.

She was there, waiting for him at the front of her building, dressed in black slacks, a white button up shirt with... with a blue and metallic striped scarf. Not quite a Harry Potter costume, but a good approximation if she was in Ravenclaw. Ravenclaw would be a good fit for her, he'd have to admit that. Though he could see her in Slytherin, maybe Hufflepuff - look how loyal she'd been to Xander and the Slayer over the years. ... no, he didn't want to think about the Slayer.

"Looking gorgeous, luv. Ready to go see how much they butchered this one?" Spike smiled at her.

With a giggle, she skipped around his car, the door opening before she could even touch it. "Are you going to steal all my popcorn at this one?"

Still grinning, he winked, "Of course I am. Isn't very manly to get that big bag of popcorn for myself, but if I get it for you, then that looks all considerate, and then I can eat it anyhow."

"I knew there was a conspiracy about that," she murmured, eyes sparkling with amusement.

Soon enough, they were at the theater, settling into their seats with large drinks and a huge bag of popcorn. Spike was reminded of one of the problems with modern theaters, "Who the hell thought it would be a good idea to play commercials before the show? Previews are one thing, but… commercials for cars and shoes and crisps are just absurd."

"We'd have missed them if we'd taken about another ten minutes to get here," Willow glanced around the theater, seeing only a few scattered empty seats, "But then we might have had trouble finding somewhere to sit."

"I bet I could scare a few of them out of their seats," Spike offered.

"Then they'd spill their drinks and popcorn all over the seats," her nose wrinkled as she pictured the mess that would leave.

They quieted when the previews began. He kept sneaking handfuls of the popcorn, though he enjoyed looking at her face, washed with different colors from the screen more than the popcorn, drenched with butter flavored topping. No real butter, just butter flavored.

Finally the movie began, with the tinkling little theme song and the wretched Dursleys. He imagined that the neighborhood would be improved if the three of them were killed, and that while not terribly healthy, the man would have plenty of blood… Pain crackled through his skull in a warning. "Damn chip."

"The Dursleys do seem like the sort of people who could use a good killing," Willow admitted. After a moment, she then added a very unconvincing, "..but it's bad to kill people just because they're annoying."

"What about killing them for child abuse? Overworking, underfeeding, all sorts of insults… look at the walrus and the junior walrus, it's obviously not a question of not being able to afford to feed the poor kid," Spike gestured at the screen.

"Valid arguments," she considered the screen, chewing on her bottom lip a moment before reminding them both, "They're characters in a book. The actors could be decent enough people. Of course, if we ran into any real life Dursleys… That would be different. And it would probably improve the life of the corresponding real world Harry. Killing monsters is okay, right?"

"You have a long history of that, luv. But I thought the Dursley's were all human. Human and as muggle as you could get?" Part of his mind flashed through the various demons and vampires that he could remember her killing. Glorious violence, and proof that she was more than a pretty face and the magic.

"Some of the worst monsters are. It isn't a question of sharp teeth or claws, it's what you do and why. Demons generally eat people because they're hungry, they don't shove them into cupboards and lie about their family because they want to make a little boy suffer."

"Some do, but then, the kids in question aren't their family," Spike muttered. "Some demons are a nasty lot."

Spike was pleasantly surprised that they hadn't butchered the book too badly when they made the movie. He whispered mocking comments about Lockhart and the Malfoys to Willow, treasuring her smothered giggles. Watching the Quidditch game was fun as well, and made him wish that he could play a game with great iron balls flying around whacking into people. The whole sunshine thing might be a complication, but it looked like a lot of fun.

He hadn't expected her to squeak and fling her arms around him when they got to the basilisk in the chamber. There were hints of genuine fear, not only in her voice but in her scent, and he could feel her shaking against him. Not that she was the only one, but… he expected the oblivious masses to be afraid, but not his Willow. "Luv, what's wrong? I've got you, you're safe…"

"It looks like the Mayor after his Ascension," her words were muffled against his chest.

Spike shuddered at that, knowing that an Ascension was beyond 'bad news' and well into 'could end the world as we bloody well know it.' He had no trouble believing that someone on the Hellmouth would have tried something like that, but to hear that they'd come close… no, that he'd actually succeeded was different. It explained all the Mayor McDemon cracks that had been made, the comments that he'd dismissed as empty words to make themselves feel better when fighting the next big bad.

Eventually, the climactic fight between scrawny Harry Potter and the giant snake was over, with the diary impaled and shredded by the nasty internal light. Evil vanquished and all that rot… Not that the idea was bad, just that the special effects were a bit over-flashy for his taste.

"The bird's carried them out, even the poncy fraud of an instructor. You can look again," he rubbed her back, not minding the feeling of her clinging to his chest in the slightest.

"Sorry, I thought I was over that," she sniffled, and sighed, "The scene didn't bother me to read it."

"S'all right, I didn't mind. Watch, the arrogant wanker's about to get blasted into the wall," his glee at the impending humiliation of the over-groomed blond wizard was fun. "Overly pretty nancy-boy like that, it's a bloody miracle that he's got a son. Or maybe it's a potion."

They both watched as Lucius Malfoy was flung down the hallway and into a wall. He staggered back to his feet and limped away, dignity in tatters.

"Wizards must have a bit more bounce to them, a normal human would have cracked some bones hitting that wall," he observed. Past experience had shown that bones could break from far less force than that scene, and the people rarely could stagger back to their feet and walk away. Normally they crumpled to the ground or floor and whimpered, sometimes with screams and pleading.

They waited until the crowd had surged out before they left the theater. It helped avoid people stepping on their feet, or catching elbows in their chests. Her hand was resting in his, and Spike liked that feeling.

"Fancy a bit of coffee before I take you back to your place?" His thumb brushed over the back of her hand, and he hoped that she'd say yes. Not that he didn't have a few racier hopes, but he pushed those towards the back of his mind as 'unlikely for tonight.'

"There's that nice place near the campus," she glanced at him. "It's open pretty late, so there's no need to rush out."

It wasn't long before they were sitting at one of the little tables in the back, with steaming mugs in front of them. Hoping that he wasn't about to send the night crashing down in flames, he asked, "Have you considered going back? To California, to your friends?"

"I don't plan to go back to Sunnydale. Not ever. Giles probably won't stay much longer than Buffy's time there, and maybe Anya can talk Xander into relocating somewhere with a better life expectancy, especially if they want a family. But there's no reason to go back. Not enough happy memories and too many bad ones," She blew over the top of her mug, her eyes tracking the bits of froth at the top. "And I don't want to be the person I used to be when I lived there. I won't go back to being door-mat girl, or oblivious girl."

"So life goes on elsewhere?" He couldn't find the courage to ask if part of what she wanted to leave behind was him. She'd said she was willing to give him another chance, to try to see if they could start over. That didn't keep away the worry. "Brilliant education, eventual job… do you plan to have a family, children someday?"

She looked up at him, a tiny smile on her face. "You do realize there are options now, right? There's adoption, there's sperm banks and clinics… I can have a family even if I don't have a human guy keeping my toes warm at night."

She took a careful sip of her drink, "If that's what I want. I'm a bit too young to be bringing children into my life right now. Maybe down the road, once I have a solid job, and a home that isn't a three room apartment."

A swallow of his own drink, the heat of it searing down his throat, prevented him from saying something stupid. He'd been afraid that she'd get this whole biological urge to have a family, and that he'd be kicked to the curb, being dead and unable to give her babies. He'd forgotten about the options available now, options that hadn't been there when he was mortal.

"With options like that, you don't need to depend on having a partner who can… Someone alive," he mumbled.

"But I would still want someone with me. Someone that I loved, and trusted, someone to help me through life and the troubles from life, jobs, children… maybe the occasional fighting with monsters," her words were soft. "Life's no fun if you're alone."

"No, it really isn't," he agreed, thinking of his mortal days as the rejected poet, of the times when Drusilla had left him, when he'd arrived in Sunnydale, drunk and miserable, when Willow had left.

He wanted to be with her, to make sure that she was never alone again.

End Second Best 17: Facing the Future.


	18. Warnings

Willow kept smiling as she walked across the campus, still in a good mood from her date. Last night had been wonderful, she'd spent time with Spike, they'd cuddled during the movie, talked over coffee... everything had been great. The whole thing left her hopeful that they could rebuild a relationship, better than before. But today she needed to go to the campus library to look up some things for a report for one of her classes. Granted, the report wasn't due for another three weeks, but procrastinating never helped, and this way, if something big came up, she'd already have a good start, if not a finished paper.

Something caught her attention – a glimpse of bright pink in the corner of her vision. Patricia, the librarian at the front desk, had dark pink skin and white eyes.

Willow blinked, and looked directly at the woman. Facing her, Patricia had the same grey hair, bifocal glasses, and lightly wrinkled pale skin as ever. Normal bland cardigan sweater over bland blouse and slacks. She looked completely human, slightly old, and unremarkable.

As Willow made her way to the reference sections, Patricia was pink at the edge of her vision.

A trio of guys clustered around one of the computer terminals, whispering and pointing to something. They all looked fairly normal, not quite responsible, sort of like Xander had back in ninth grade, and completely human. The girl at the next terminal was tall and too thin, with a long pale braid. She looked human out of the corner of Willow's eye as well. The next guy over, one of the basketball team... out of the corner of Willow's eye he looked even taller than normal, closer to eight feet, and a pale grey, with a leathery cast to his skin and a slight muzzle, the sort that was generally filled with sharp teeth. Though he was still clad in a Nike shirt and jean shorts. The next computer had one of the overly serious upper-classmen that Willow had seen lurking in the social sciences hallway, reminding her just a bit of her mother.

A group of students sat at a table in the corner, with a collection of brightly colored books that certainly hadn't come from the university library. They had papers and notebooks, and large collections of brightly colored dice. Most of them looked like they could use a little more sunshine. One had green streaks in his hair, along with a number of piercings and a tattoo edging out from under his shirt. Another had blue skin. None of the group seemed to find anything out of the ordinary.

"Don't stare at the gamers," Willow whispered to herself. When she dared a direct look, the green streaks were still there, but the blue one simply looked like he had a bit of a suntan.

Her hand was shaking as she pulled the reference book from the shelf. Despite the much reduced stress about Spike, she was still seeing some of the people on campus as not humans. She thought that the basketball player looked rather like some demons that she'd seen at Willie's, watching some of the basketball games with baskets of some sort of maybe-shrimp.

If it wasn't just the stress of Spike and the question of should she give him another chance, then... Then she had to really be seeing them differently. Which left two possible explanations. Possibility one - they weren't human, and she was somehow seeing through whatever kept most people from knowing that they were demons. Possibility two - something had happened or been done to her to make her hallucinate that some people weren't human. If it was a hallucination, was it something that she'd been exposed to, or a spell cast on her? If she was seeing through glamours and disguises, how and why now?

Willow pulled out a little notebook, and jotted down who she'd seen looking different. Everyone that she could think of, even the ones that she only vaguely recognized as 'normally crossing the courtyard when she was on the way to Philosophy on Mondays'. The best way to start unraveling what was going on and maybe why was to make certain if she was really seeing people's true faces, or if she was hallucinating. The best way to start figuring that out would be to keep track of who looked different and how they looked. If it wasn't consistent, then it must be hallucinations. If the differences were consistent... if they were consistent then she needed to be asking different questions than if it wasn't. Except for 'why?'; that would remain a big question regardless of what was happening.

Tucking the notebook back into her bag, Willow had an idea. As a vampire, Spike had senses that were better than a human, and abilities that a normal guy lacked. Perhaps, if any of the people were really not human, Spike would be able to tell? Notice some difference in their scent, hear a different sound to sharp teeth and nails, maybe see through glamours intended to fool human eyes. That might help her figure out if this was real or not. Once she knew that, then maybe, just maybe, she could start working out what to do about these strange peripheral vision differences.

Jotting down notes for her paper, Willow remembered her emails to Xander and Wesley concerning her odd dream with the First Slayer. A dream that had raised questions about the health of Faith and Buffy, neither of whom inspired good feelings in her. More frustrating, she didn't know if she was hoping to hear that everything was fine – that they were still dealing with known Slayers - or that one of them had died, even both of them.

She still didn't know which answer she would prefer when she let herself into her little apartment. Faith… Faith had belittled her; tried to kill her, Xander, and Angel; had helped the Mayor. But Faith had never pretended that she was Willow's friend, had never betrayed her in the personal sense – only in the we were both supposed to be good guys fighting the bad guys and then Faith joined the bad guys sense of betrayal. Something that had probably hit Giles and Wesley much harder, since they were supposed to be guides to a Slayer. Buffy… there had been years of friendship before Buffy had… before Buffy's betrayal. A betrayal that now made Willow question the reality of the friendship that had preceded it.

It didn't take long before she had her computer running, enabling her to check her email and start filling in the notes, outline and references section for her paper. There was the usual assortment of junk emails – penis enlargement offers, two offers of porn, a work from home and make thousands of dollars offer, a bank-phishing email, and oooh, a Nigerian money transfer scam email. "Haven't got one of those in a while. I'm not equipped with a penis to enlarge, I can find my own porn, I can write programs at home and get more money than those home mailing type things, and I don't even have an account with Bank of America."

Wesley had emailed back, concerned about her dream. He mentioned that he'd checked on Faith and been reminded that she was only permitted visitors at certain times. But he was certain that they would have mentioned if she had died, and they should have looked worried or shown some reaction if she was otherwise in poor health, so he assumed that she was physically well enough. Considering the alarming nature of her questions and dream, he wrote that he'd have to talk with Faith and see if she was having any unusual dreams lately.

There were a few emails from some on-line friends, covering how things were going at school, with their personal lives, with PynSol's wreck of a car, and PBJelly's fanfics. Normal things, everyday things. Things that had nothing to do with demons, or dead Slayers stalking her dreams, or Hellmouths.

That was when she realized her answering machine was blinking. Swallowing against sudden nerves, Willow pressed the button to make the message or messages play. First was someone in a noisy place looking for Gwen or Jen – either a wrong number, or someone who'd had this one before Willow. Second was a hang-up. Third was an automated political message urging support for the re-election of Senator Myers in the upcoming election. Fourth was another hang-up. Fifth was Xander's voice, sounding strained and upset – 'Willow, it's important. Call me back on the cell. Not the apartment, not the Magic Box. Call me.'

"That can't be anything good. He didn't even say what it was about," Willow whispered.

For a moment, she wanted to erase the message, to bury herself in homework and school stress and fretting over Spike and the fragile relationship that they were trying to rebuild. But that wouldn't help anything. Her hand shook as she dialed Xander's cell phone.

"Xander?" Willow had no idea how to begin this conversation.

"Willow, you got my message." Xander's voice had the same tired tension that had so often followed patrols.

Disliking the association that her mind had made, Willow asked, "What happened?"

"New uglies in town, as usual. Except that these went after Anya. She's in the hospital, Willow. Just the other day, we were talking about maybe getting married, and she's in the hospital. Buffy didn't care; she just said that Anya wasn't strong enough to be fighting demons. Giles mumbled something about demonic strength and human frailty…" Xander's words trailed off, and then he sighed. "I think Buffy's either got him wrapped around her finger or he's gone weird the same way she did."

Unable to keep from wincing, Willow murmured, "That's just awful. And he's the closest that you have to a father-figure. Blinkered or loopy aren't good options. What happened next? I'd like to think that even as… even the way she was, Buffy would know there's a problem with demons just beating up her support."

"Buffy left for patrol around sunset, and I haven't seen her since. She should have checked in last night, or this morning at the latest, but nada." Xander's words were harsh, and slurred by exhaustion and maybe pain.

She almost hated herself for the hesitant whisper, "She could have just gone home. Or to crash with Giles."

"I called over to the Magic Box earlier. He was… he snapped at me, telling me that there was no need to pester him, and he would inform me of anything I needed to know. Much as I want to say he was just worried and having a bad morning, I don't believe it. Something is not right, and I don't know what," the sound of something hitting a table carried clearly. Perhaps it was a fist, or some sort of big book – the sound was wrong for china or metal.

She didn't like the sound of any of that. "Xander? You might not like to hear this, but…. When Anya gets out of the hospital, I think you should both leave. Get out of Sunnydale while you can. Before something kills you, before she kills you."

"Just leave? Willow, I know she's had some problems since you brought her back, but she wouldn't… she couldn't… She's one of the good guys, right?" Xander's voice faltered as he attempted to deny that Buffy could be a danger.

"Just like she wouldn't have sex with her friend's boyfriend? Just like she would never deliberately hit one of us? She did both to me, Xander. Do you want to risk it that she wouldn't do that to you and Anya? Okay, maybe she won't try to seduce your girlfriend. Maybe I'm wrong. Maybe she's the Buffy we knew and loved in high school again. That Buffy I trusted, that Buffy I'd trust with you. But not the Buffy that used Spike, the one who hit me when I asked her why. The Buffy that said it didn't matter because he wasn't human, that he was just a thing." Willow stopped, trying to swallow the lump that had appeared in her throat, a lump that she thought might be made of tears and regret and fear. "She isn't the Buffy that we met in sophomore year anymore. That Buffy died. I don't trust the one who came back."

Xander was quiet for a few moments. "I'll talk to Anya about it when she can stay awake longer than five minutes."

As she finished the call to her friend, Willow sighed. Buffy hadn't checked back in after patrol. Did that mean she was dead, being held prisoner, injured somewhere? Had she just decided not to bother, and gone somewhere else to rest after a patrol? And Giles – wasn't that taking support for his Slayer too far?

Looking at the now-silent phone, Willow sighed. "Get out while you can, Xander. It may be the only way you and Anya can have a rest of your lives that isn't measured in months, weeks, or days."

It didn't help that in trying to explain her worries to Xander, she'd resurrected all her fears about getting back together with Spike. Reminded herself of the pain of his betrayal, of what Buffy had done. Of all the reasons why she'd left Sunnydale. "I hope this isn't a big mistake."

This also meant that she wouldn't be able to ask Giles to help sort out whatever was going on to make her see or hallucinate demons on campus. Maybe she could ask Wesley, once she knew if it was real or hallucinations. He was good with the books parts, and finding answers. He hadn't been so good at putting those answers into practice, not in Sunnydale at least, though he'd gotten better once he wound up in LA with Angel. It might also be a good idea to check if the college had a Wiccan group, or perhaps a group for pagans. It might not hurt to see if there were any New Age or psychic groups in the area either. Maybe they'd be able to help, or at worst she'd wind up with a heads up on upcoming dangers.

End Second Best 18: Warnings


	19. Playing With Fire

On the way back from her research, Willow stopped at one of the campus notice boards. There were two possibilities that she could see - there was a Celtic heritage group meeting Thursdays, and a 'religious tolerance group' meeting on Friday afternoons. She couldn't be sure about either of them, but they sounded like better prospects than the lesbian support group, or the LGBT group, or the philosophy club.

"I'll have to check those out. Maybe one of them will be something, or lead to me to whatever they might have here like the Sunnydale Wiccan group," Willow murmured.

With those groups as well as their times and locations for the meetings noted down, she decided that there wasn't anything else she could do towards establishing ties with local magicals right now. She didn't remember seeing anything that could have been earlier, but she'd been pretty wrapped up in her own misery, it would have been easy to miss things. Even big things.

When Willow returned to her little apartment, she sent off an email to Wesley. She hoped that he wouldn't be so caught up in immediate dangers and confusion that he'd be unable to help. And she wished that she had enough confidence to call Giles and ask him about the situation.

Wesley,

I hope you aren't too caught up with crazy and dangerous stuff going on over in LA. I've been having something kinda weird happening here, and wanted some advice. It doesn't appear to be immediately dangerous, but it is worrying me.

People are looking different out of the corners of my eyes than they do straight on. Like demons kind of different. I don't know if I'm hallucinating or seeing beneath glamour-disguises.

I'm planning to keep track of who looks different, in hopes that will help sort out hallucination yes/no. Further advice would be good : )

No clue why either way. If I'm hallucinating, why and why now? Who'd benefit, and how would they find me? If its real, and I'm seeing hidden truths, again why and why now?

The whole mess seemed like a Watchery kind of question.

Willow

ps - Cordelia tends to categorize based on accessories. Try searching by the brand of shoes or maybe purses.

She sent off the email, and hoped for the best. After that, she started a computer file with her observations of people that she was seeing differently. After all, as portable as her little notebook was, a computer back-up was always a good thing... or at least, often a good thing. It helped her settle her thoughts a bit.

After that, she worked on her Philosophy class, reading over chapters fourteen and fifteen again, and hoping that this time, the stuff would stick. The notes should help, the same for the study guide that she was filling in as she went. She worked on that until she'd filled in the whole study-guide, and completed the mini-quizzes at the ends of the chapters.

Then she pulled out the tiny tape recorder, and the little tape of bat-sonar. She really hoped that the rumors about the new biology teacher were wrong, but just in case... Sunnydale had left her paranoid about 'just in case'. Except that there were an awful lot of times when instead of it being 'paranoid' it was being right.

"Off to biology with me... to play a tape that hopefully nobody's going to hear." Willow shook her head and gathered her books. "Has life always been like this?"

Willow settled into her usual section of the biology seats, about half way back and near the hallway side wall. It gave her a decent view of the professor, the chalkboard and the occasionally used projector screen, while keeping her out of the way of the majority of the students, who seemed to prefer using the central aisle to find their seats. Doctor Inglemeyer looked human, or at least not visibly other than human. The same couldn t be said for some of the students. A quiet guy with a stripey orange sweater and thick horn-rimmed glasses seemed to have a thin layer of scales instead of normal human skin. Giggly Kisha with her row of hoop earrings all along the curve of her ear was distinctly blue today, with thicker scales, though her red and purple striped hair was just as short and spikey as ever. There was a big guy who looked like he should be playing football that seldom talked, and then with a strange, maybe-eastern European accent that looked rather grey, with very solid bones and heavier eyebrows, matching some of the illustrations of early Germanic and Frankish trolls from the old Watcher books.

Willow jotted those details down on her little notebook, and settled in to take notes on the structures of the eye, and the function of each part of the eye. She found herself wondering if demon eyes had tapetum lucidum like cats or if they had something else that performed a similar function, considering the number of times that she d seen demon eyes gleaming in the dark back in Sunnydale. Generally those were explained away as cats, or raccoons, or really big scary rats . Xander had always laughed, wondering how offended most vampires would be to get compared to big rats, and if that would be enough to get the opportunity to stake them

She waited until the normal middle of the class break of five to ten minutes so that people could stretch a bit, go to the bathroom, or whatever before she pressed the button on her tiny tape recorder with the bat sonar. Doctor Inglemeyer showed no signs of reacting, but a pair of very quiet people that normally sat in the back, pale and thin and normally dressed almost all in black had definite reactions. The one with the longer hair flinched, one hand going to their head and rubbing at the temple with nails mostly covered in dark purple polish. The other stumbled, frantically looking around while regaining their footing it didn't look like 'I hope nobody saw me', it looked a lot more like 'are there any dangerous things about to eat me in here?' to Willow. She stopped the tape at once, and wondered just what this could mean, besides Doctor Inglemeyer probably not being a giant mantis-woman. She rather liked the idea of her biology professor not being a giant mantis-woman the odds of the class having a student-death toll were lower with a human instructor rather than a giant, predatory bug.

Willow was a bit distracted for the second half of class. Notes about eye function took a second place priority to concerns that some of her classmates were not human, and the following questions of what were they and what did they eat. While Willow knew that just because someone wasn't human that didn't mean they were automatically a threat to humans well The demon database that she d made listed almost five thousand hostile demon species of various sizes and levels of threat, close to a thousand that were neutral or not actively hostile, and just over a hundred that were classified as non-threatening or peaceful. The statistical odds weren't promising, and the proximity to humans well, maybe they were just looking for an education, and maybe all the humans made dinner plans much easier.

It was dark out by the time the lecture was over. Dark and slightly chilly, with thin wisps of clouds that stretched across the sky. Sunnydale only felt this cold in the deepest clutches of winter but this was still only late fall. Things would only get colder. Willow shivered and pulled her jacket closer to her body, "Maybe I should have thought a little more about the weather before I moved away from home..."

Willow shivered again as she headed back towards her apartment. "If this is still fall, then winter is going to suck."

"I can keep that from being a problem for you, pretty. You look like quite the tasty treat," a voice leered from the right.

Willow scowled as she looked, not really surprised to see a vampire. "I have homework to do and a chapter to reread. I don t have time for vampires with nothing better to do and no sense of self preservation to attack me on the way home. Just go away if you want to live... unlive... not die again whatever you call it, just go."

"Feisty," the vampire grinned, showing a collection of yellowed fangs. "What do you think you are, little girl, the Slayer? You re just prey."

"The Slayer? You think it takes a Slayer to not be someone to push around?" Willow growled, her empty hand curling as if she held a softball. Power gathered in her hand, and she glared, "Count of three. One."

There was a sound further from the right. The sort of sound of a few people in a fight. Willow didn't look.

"You don't know what you re facing, tasty," the vampire bared his fangs, stepping closer.

"Two", Willow started to tighten the power in her hand, resisting the urge to shout that she'd lived on the Hellmouth, that she'd fought vampires for over five years. Saved the world, faced things that would send this idiot vampire cowering back to his grave. But she refused to rant and monologue.

"You're just a scared little girl trying to be brave. Breaking girls like you is fun," with those words, he lunged at her, trying to grab and pin her against him.

Willow pushed her hand at his chest, giving the little mental tap to the gathered power that she always compared to striking a match. As the power became a fistful of fire, she whispered, "Three."

The vampire had enough time for his mouth to open in shock before he had a moment as flames and then fell into ashes. She would never know if he'd been about to scream, to curse, or just gaping in horrified shock.

"I guess I don t have to give you a talk about carrying a stake, luv," Spike s voice was welcome.

Looking at him, Willow found herself smiling. He had a rumpled look that suggested that those scuffling noises a few fast heartbeats ago meant the vampire hadn't been alone, that Spike had been removing his pal or pals. Seeing him made her night feel better, less cold and strange.

"Think you could put that out before the hugging?" Spike gestured at her hand, not moving towards her.

Raising one eyebrow, Willow glanced at her hand, which was half open and curved around a ball of fire.

Oh. That would explain his reluctance to come over for a hug. Vampires, as she'd just demonstrated, were quite flammable.

Willow released the knot of power, feeling a puff of warm air against her as the fire wisped away. "Annoying jerk had a friend?"

"He had two hunting with him, but I doubt the lot of them would be much of a threat. I've seen you get more stressed over term papers," Spike moved over, his arms sliding around her in a hug. "I was worried. I figured I'd walk you back after class, and some annoying git with fangs is trying to make you his dinner. Worse, probably dinner and diversion for him and his pals."

"I'm pretty good with fire-spells," Willow murmured, leaning against his chest. "Thanks for taking care of his pals."

"I couldn't just let some random minions eat you up," Spike protested, his face taking on a slightly odd expression, with his eyes narrowed and his cheeks oddly tense. "Nobody gets to do that but me if you ll let me."

As Willow s cheeks burned, she realized that Spike s expression was a near match for her own. Slightly embarrassed blushing without the red cheeks. As for his comment about eating her up... "I don't think you mean it quite the same way. I think your way might be a lot more fun."

As they walked back to her apartment building, Willow considered the warmth that couldn't entirely be explained by her fire spell. Nor was it all because of Spike s suggestive comment. It was more than his words, it was what was behind them and not just his admiration of her body and desire to get her back into his bed, or him into hers.

He would defend her, keep her safe in a fight. Willow trusted Spike to defend her, to do his best to keep her safe. She trusted him with her safety. Now it was just a question of trusting him with her heart. Again. That was harder to answer, and a question that she d been struggling with for a while.

Willow was hoping the answer was yes. She had a growing suspicion that she d be finding out, and she really, really hoped that wouldn't mean another heart-break.

End Second Best 19: Playing With Fire.


	20. Still Mostly Sane

"So, care to tell me what else has you distracted? I know it can't all be school and contemplating what I might want you to do to my admittedly impressive body," Spike grinned at her as he sat across from Willow at a coffee shop.

With a glance at all the other people, most of them busily focused on their own tables and conversations, Willow sighed. The girl at the register was green out of the corner of her eye, green with little horns on her temples. And the girl by the window with the pink and black streaked hair almost falling out of a corset was pinkish with the same strange white eyes as the librarian. There was a lanky kid with some friends, and he seemed to have small antlers... No, whatever was going on wasn't going away.

"Not really, not here." Willow sipped at her coffee, and gave a more obvious glance around the room. "Too many people, and some conversations are best done in private."

"So you are thinking about my sexy body," Spike teased.

Willow blushed, not quite willing to say how often his body had been in her mind. But that was a much better idea for anybody listening to have than to hear that she was seeing things. Or looking for real witches. "You're normally better than Anya about public and private conversations."

"Take away all my fun..." Spike grumbled.

"This place is way too public for some of your ideas of fun, and I like the coffee here too much for some of your other ideas of fun," she countered.

No sooner had she finished her coffee than she found herself strolling along the sidewalk with Spike. They wound up in a lovely little park area that was deserted at this hour, and he guided them to a bench. "Now we're alone. Feel free to spill those ideas or have your way with me."

"I can guess your preference..." Willow murmured. "But no, that isn't on the agenda for tonight. I've been trying to find local witches."

"Why? You seem to be doing pretty good as far as I can tell," Spike slid an arm around her shoulders.

"Either I'm having really specific hallucinations, or there's a bunch of demons in town, playing humanish. And I don't know which, or why I'm seeing it, or why now, or what it means for the future." Willow sighed and leaned against his shoulder.

"Same people looking the same way?" Spike asked.

Willow nodded, "So far it seems like it. The same people are consistently the same... human when I look straight at them, not so much out of the corner of my eyes. Each of them has the same differences that they always have. The school librarian's pinkish with white eyes. One of the guys who always crosses the courtyard between my Monday classes has green scales and spikes down his back. There's a girl who looks like a red cyclops."

"Have you been trying to match them to some of those old books of demons the watcher had?" Spike paused, "Wait, you don't have those anymore, do you?"

"Digital. I put them all on CD's. And yes, I have been looking, and yes, a lot of them have been matching up. The girl at the coffee register tonight... she didn't look human." Willow admitted.

"Her scent was a bit off, that would explain it," Spike murmured.

Willow twisted to look at him. He'd noticed something off about one of the same people - it wasn't just her! "She didn't smell human? I'm not hallucinating?"

Spike pulled her close, "That still doesn't tell us why now, or what the bloody hell it might mean."

"Knowing that I'm not hallucinating is a good start. I was starting to worry about my sanity," Willow admitted.

"Some kinds of crazy are still sexy," Spike grinned.

"Considering some of your history, I guess you'd know," Willow managed a smile. "But I was hoping if I could find safe local witches, they might be able to help me find answers."

"I guess that makes sense," Spike started playing with her hair.

Willow just leaned against him for a while, letting time flow as she cuddled against the vampire that had changed her life. The one that she'd never be able to get out of her heart, even if he had broken it before. The one that she hoped wouldn't break her heart again. "I think I need to start checking the coroner's website and police reports again."

"Looking for people that I can thump? I do like a good spot of violence now and then," Spike mused.

"It'd be nice if there aren't any demons for you to track down and thump." Willow paused, and then sighed. "Nice, but I'm not going to hold my breath on it."

"We've already found other vampires, damn few of us are willing to play nice with the mortals, as the saying goes," Spike paused, muttering something about the chip.

Willow sighed, once again glad that he was still all chip-impeded. She doubted it would last forever, and strongly suspected that it could be removed by a talented enough surgeon. But finding said talented surgeon and convincing him, her or it to remove a safety-chip from a vampire… not something that she expected to happen anytime soon. Her own prior efforts to find a magical option for removal, or to find a way to block said magical removal had brought her to the awareness that manipulating something that small was very tricky when it was surrounded by something else. If you didn't want to damage that something else it became very, very tricky. She could easily yank the chip out of him, but that would probably shred his brain into red goo, and while that might or might not be fatal, she really doubted that it would be anywhere near good for Spike. Possibly not for the rest of them, depending on the resulting brain damage – it might be drooling twitching unresponsive husk brain damage or it might be rampaging vicious thing with no attention span or anything resembling morals, ethics or restraint.

When the chip failed, or somebody found a way to block or remove it, what would Spike do? Would he go back to treating humans as happy meals on legs? Would he kill or turn her, if she was still around? Would he pick up his one-time hobby of torture, with or without railroad spikes? Willow didn't know, and wasn't entirely sure that she wanted to know.

That brought up the memories of vampire-Willow, with her leather and the licking, and the naughty hands. Someone that Willow didn't want to become. Not that she wanted to be all brooding and unable to have a satisfying sex life like Angel of the awful curse. There had to be something in between… and if there wasn't, she could make something. Just in case.

"You have too many thoughts, Red," Spike murmured, stroking her hair.

"I know," Willow smiled. It wasn't the first time she'd been told that.

"If you do find more witches, they'll probably try to convince you to stay away from me," he whispered.

"Nobody but you can convince me to stay away," Willow countered. She didn't add that it didn't seem to have worked very long this time – he was part of her life again. Not as much as before, but give him time and half a chance, and here he was again. To get rid of him, she'd probably have to kill him, and put the ashes in crystal or something. And unless he broke her heart again, why would she want to do that?

"Bugger that, I like you here," Spike retorted.

Willow just giggled. "Given that I haven't found these maybe theoretical other witches, I'm just going to be glad that I'm not hallucinating and therefore crazy."

"But you've got leads on them," Spike's fingers were playing with her hair again.

"A couple. Celtic heritage group and a religious tolerance group. That might mean pagan, which might mean witches," Willow explained.

"S'long as they aren't fluffy bunny vegetarian tree huggers," Spike shuddered.

"You're thinking hippies, not pagans," Willow teased.

"And hippies are bad to eat. Most of them have too many drugs in their systems. Learned that at Woodstock," Spike gave another shudder. "I spent an hour watching my hand make trails of funny colors."

Willow shouldn't have found that funny, but she did. Maybe she was only a little crazy?

End Second Best 20: Still Mostly Sane


End file.
